BX  5199   .N55  A37  1850 
Newton,  John,  1725-1807. 
The  life  of  the  Rev.  John 
Newton,  rector  of  St.  Mary 


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the  Internet  Archive 

in  2015 

https://archive.org/details/lifeofrevjohnnewOOnewt_0 


THE  LIFE  OF 


THE 

REV.  JOHN  NEW  T  O  N  , 

RECTOR  OF  ST.  MARY  AVOOLN.OTH,  LONDON. 
Written  by  himself  to  A.  D.  170'3,  and 
Continued  to  his  Death  in  18U7, 

BY  REV.   RICHARD  VE C  1 L , 

MINISTER  OK  3  T.  JOHN'S  CHAPEL,  LONDON. 


4%  I  will  bring  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  knew  not ;  !  will  lead 
them  in  paths  that  they  have  not  known  ;  1  will  make  darkness  light 
before  them,  and  crooked  thing*  straight.  These  things  will  I  do  unto 
them,  and  not  forsake  them.'*—  tsuiah,  42  :  1G. 

"  I  am  a  wonder  unto  many." — Psalm  71  :  7. 


FT'BMSHED  BY  THE 

AMERICAN    TRACT  SOCIETY, 
150  NASSAU-STREET,  KEW-YORK. 

V.  1'anthaw,- Primer. 


The  Memoir  of  Newton  prefixed  to  his  Works  in 
6  vols.  8vo.  consists  simply  of  the  Narrative  written 
by  himself  in  the  following  Letters  to  the  Rev.  T. 
Hawies,  which  brings  down  his  history  to  the  age  of 
38,  A.  D.  1763,  and  was  published  in  1764.  The  Me- 
moir by  Rev.  Mr.  Cecil  presents  only  an  abridgment 
of  those  letters;  but  they  are  here  given  entire,  with 
the  remainder  of  the  Memoir  as  continued  by  Mr. 
Cecil  to  Mr.  Newton's  death. 


CONTENTS. 

MR.  NEWTON'S  NARRATIVE  OF  HIMSELF,  IN  LETTERS 

TO  THE  REV.  T.  HAWIES,  PUBLISHED  1764. 
Leitcr.  Page. 

1.  — Introductory,  5 

2.  — Early  history  to  the  age  of  17 — 1742,  14 

3.  — Acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Newton. — Sails  for  Ve- 

nice.—  Dream. — Is  impressed  and  put  on  board 
a  man-of-war. — Infidelity. — Misconduct. — 
Sufferings— 1743,  1745,  23 

4.  — Voyages  for  Madeira  and  Africa. — Remains  in 

Africa.  40 

5.  — Sickness  and  cruel  oppression  in  Africa,  49 

6.  — Better  circumstances  in  Africa. — Is  sent  for  by 

his  father,  and  embarks  in  an  English  trading 
ship,  Feb.  1747,  58 

7, 8,  9. — Trading  on  the  African  coast. — Dangerous 
voyage  to  England.— Apparent  conversion, 
1748,  68  to  86 

10.  — Sails  again  for  Africa  as  mate.— Sickness.— Stu- 

dies Latin,  94 

11.  — Sails  for  Antigua  and  Charleston. — Returns  to 

England. — Is  married,  Feb.  1750. — First  voy- 
age to  Africa  as  captain. — Resumes  the 
study  of  Latin,  but  renounces  it  for  the  Scrip- 
tures, 103 


CONTENTS. 


Letter. 


Page. 


12. — Second  voyage  to  Africa,  July,  1752. — Religious 
reflections. — Varied  adven  tur es. — Studies. — 


13. — Third  and  last  voyage  to  Africa. — Sickness. — 
Religious  experience. — Returns  to  England, 


14. — A  fit  prevents  his  return  to  sea. — Sickness  of 
Mrs.  Newton. — Devotions  amid  rural  scenes. 
Is  appointed  tide-surveyor. — Residence  in 
Liverpool. — Studies  Greek  and  Hebrew. — 
Proposes  to  enter  the  ministry,  but  is  refused 
ordination,  December,  1758,  129 

rev.  mr.  Cecil's  continuation  of  the  memoir. 

Employment  at  Liverpool. — Visit  to  Dr.  Young. — 
Ministerial  labors  at  Olney,  where  he  is  ordain- 
ed, June,  1765. — Acquaintance  with  John  Thorn- 
ton, Esq.  the  poet  Cowper,  and  Rev.  Thomas 
Scott. — His  publications. — Removal  to  St.  Mary 
Woolnoth,  London,  1779.— His  fidelity  in  the  mi- 
nistry.— Acquaintance  with  Dr.  Buchanan. — Death 
of  his  niece. — Sermons  on  Handel's  Messiah. — 
Death  of  Mrs.  Newton. — Letter  to  a  friend  at  Rome. 
— Refusal  of  the  degree  of  D.  D. — Fruitfulness  in 
old  age.— Death,  Dec.  1807,  138  to  217 

Sketch  or  his  character,  218 

His  remarks  in  familiar  conversation,  230 


Return  to  England,  Aug.  1753, 


112 


Aug.  1754, 


120 


THE  LIFE 

OF  THE 

REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


Mr.  Newton's  Narrative  of  himself,  in  Letters  to  the  Rev.  T.  Hawcis, 
published  in  17C4. 


LETTER  I. 

Introductory. 

I  make  no  doubt  but  you  have  at  times  had 
pleasing  reflections  upon  that  promise  made  to 
the  Israelites,  in  Deut.  8  :  2.  They  were  then 
in  the  wilderness,  surrounded  with  difficulties, 
which  were  greatly  aggravated  by  their  own  dis- 
trust and  perverseness:  they  had  experienced  a 
variety  of  dispensations,  the  design  of  which 
they  could  not  as  yet  understand;  they  frequent- 
ly lost  sight  of  God's  gracious  purposes  in  their 
favor,  and  were  much  discouraged  by  reason  of 
the  way.  To  compose  and  animate  their  minds, 
Moses  here  suggests  to  them  that  there  was  a 
future  happy  time  drawing  near,  when  their  jour- 
ney and  warfare  should  be  finished;  that  they 
should  soon  be  put  in  possession  of  the  promis- 
1* 


6 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


ed  land,  and  have  rest  from  all  their  fears  and 
troubles ;  and  then  it  would  give  them  pleasure 
to  look  back  upon  what  they  now  found  so  un 
easy  to  bear:  "Thou  shalt  remember  all  the 
way  by  which  the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee  through 
this  wilderness." 

But  the  importance  and  comfort  of  these 
words  is  still  greater,  if  we  consider  them,  in  a 
spiritual  sense,  as  addressed  to  all  who  are  pass 
ing  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world  to  a 
heavenly  Canaan  ;  who,  by  faith  in  the  promises 
and  power  of  God,  are  seeking  an  eternal  rest 
in  that  kingdom  which  cannot  be  shaken.  The 
hope  of  that  glorious  inheritance  inspires  us 
with  some  degree  of  courage  and  zeal  to  press 
forward  to  the  place  where  Jesus  has  already 
entered  as  our  forerunner ;  and  when  our  eye  is 
fixed  upon  him,  we  are  more  than  conquerors 
over  all  that  would  withstand  our  progress.  But 
we  have  not  yet  attained  ;  we  still  feel  the  infir- 
mities of  a  fallen  nature :  through  the  remains 
of  ignorance  and  unbelief  we  often  mistake  the 
Lord's  dealings  with  us,  and  are  ready  to  com- 
plain; when,  if  we  knew  all,  we  should  rather  re- 
joice. But  to  us  likewise  there  is  a  time  com- 
ing when  our  warfare  shall  be  accomplished,  our 
views  enlarged,  and  our  light  increased ;  then 
with  what  transports  of  adoration  and  love  shall 
we  look  back  upon  the  way  by  which  the  Lord 


INTRODUCTORY. 


7 


led  us!  -We  shall  then  see  and  acknowledge 
that  mercy  and  goodness  directed  every  step ; 
we  shall  see,  that,  what  our  ignorance  once  call- 
ed adversities  and  evils,  were  in  reality  blessings, 
which  we  could  not  have  done  well  without ; 
that  nothing  befell  us  without  a  cause  ;  that  no 
trouble  came  upon  us  sooner,  or  pressed  on  us 
more  heavily,  or  continued  longer  than  our  case 
required :  in  a  word,  that  our  many  afflictions 
were  each  in  their  place  among  the  means  em- 
ployed by  divine  grace  and  wisdom,  to  bring  us 
to  the  possession  of  that  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory  which  the  Lord  has  prepared  for 
his  people.   And  even  in  this  imperfect  state, 
though  we  are  seldom  able  to  judge  aright  of  our 
present  circumstances,  yet  if  we  look  upon  the 
years  of  our  past  life,  and  compare  the  dispensa- 
tions we  have  been  brought  through  with  the 
frame  of  our  minds  under  each  successive  pe- 
riod;  if  we  consider  how  wonderfully  one  thing 
has  been  connected  with  another,  so  that  what 
we  now  number  amongst  our  great  advantages, 
perhaps,   took  their  first   rise   from  incidents 
which  we  thought  hardly  worth  our  notice  ;  and 
that  we  have  sometimes  escaped  the  greatest 
dangers  that  threatened  us,  not  by  any  wisdom 
or  foresight  of  our  own,  but  by  the  intervention 
of  circumstances  which  we  neither  desired  nor 
thought  of:  I  say,  when  we  compare  and  consi- 


8 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


der  these  things  by  the  light  afforded  us  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  we  may  collect  indisputable 
proof  from  the  narrow  circle  of  our  own  con- 
cerns, that  the  wise  and  good  providence  of  God 
watches  over  his  people  from  the  earliest  mo- 
ment of  their  life  ;  overrules  and  guards  them 
through  all  their  Avanderings  in  a  state  of  igno- 
rance, and  leads  them  in  a  way  that  they  know 
not,  till  at  length  his  providence  and  grace  con- 
cur in  those  events  and  impressions  which  bring 
them  to  the  knowledge  of  him  and  themselves. 

I  am  persuaded  that  every  believer  will,  upon 
due  reflection,  see  enough  in  his  own  case  to 
confirm  this  remark ;  but  not  all  in  the  same  de- 
gree. The  outward  circumstances  of  many  have 
been  uniform,  they  have  known  but  little  variety 
in  life ;  and,  with  respect  to  their  inward  change, 
it  has  been  effected  in  a  secret  way,  unnoticed 
by  others,  and  almost  unperceived  by  them- 
selves. The  Lord  has  spoken  to  them,  not  in 
thunder  and  tempest ;  but  with  a  still  small  voice 
he  has  drawn  them  gradually  to  himself;  so  that, 
though  they  have  a  happy  assurance  that  they 
know  and  love  him,  and  are  passed  from  death 
unto  life,  yet  of  the  precise  time  and  manner 
they  can  give  little  account.  Others  he  seems  to 
select  in  order  to  show  the  exceeding  riches  of 
his  grace,  and  the  greatness  of  his  mighty  power  : 
he  suffers  the  natural  rebellion  and  wickedness 


INTRODUCTORY. 


9 


of  their  hearts  to  have  full  scope  :  while  sinners 
of  less  note  are  cut  off  with  little  warning,  these 
are  spared,  though  sinning  with  a  high  hand,  and, 
as  it  were,  studying  their  own  destruction.  At 
length,  when  all  that  knew  them  are  perhaps  ex- 
pecting to  hear  that  they  are  made  signal  in- 
stances of  divine  vengeance,  the  Lord  (whose 
thoughts  are  high  above  ours,  as  the  heavens  are 
higher  than  the  earth)  is  pleased  to  pluck  them 
as  brands  out  of  the  fire,  and  to  make  them  mo- 
numents of  his  mercy,  for  the  encouragement  of 
others:  they  are,  beyond  expectation,  convinced, 
pardoned  and  changed. 

A  case  of  this  sort  indicates  a  divine  power  no 
less  than  the  creation  of  a  world :  it  is  evidently 
the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  the  eyes 
of  all  those  who  are  not  blinded  by  prejudice  and 
unbelief. 

Such  was  the  persecuting  Saul :  his  heart  was 
full  of  enmity  against  Jesus  of  JS'azareth,  and 
therefore  he  persecuted  and  made  havoc  of  his 
disciples. 

He  had  been  a  terror  to  the  church  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  was  going  to  Damascus  with  the  same 
views.  He  was  yet  breathing  out  threatening* 
and  slaughter  against  all  that  loved  the  Lord 
Jesus.  He  thought  little  of  the  mischief  he  had 
hitherto  done.  He  was  engaged  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  the  whole  sect ;  and  hurrying  from  house 


10 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


to  house,  from  place  to  place,  he  carried  menaces 
in  his  look,  and  repeated  threatenings  with  every 
breath.  Such  was  his  spirit  and  temper  when 
the  Lord  Jesus,  whom  he  hated  and  opposed, 
checked  him  in  the  height  of  his  rage,  called  this 
bitter  persecutor  to  the  honor  of  an  apostle,  and 
inspired  him  to  preach,  with  great  zeal  and  earn- 
estness, that  faith  which  he  so  lately  labored  to 
destroy. 

Nor  are  we  without  remarkable  displays  of  the 
same  sovereign  efficacious  grace  in  our  own 
times:  I  may  particularly  mention  the  instance 
of  the  late  Colonel  Gardiner.  If  any  real  satis- 
faction could  be  found  in  a  sinful  course,  he 
would  have  met  with  it  j  for  he  pursued  the  ex- 
periment with  all  possible  advantages.  He  was 
habituated  to  evil ;  and  many  uncommon,  almost 
miraculous,  deliverances  made  no  impression 
upon  him.  Yet,  he  likewise  was  made  willing  in 
the  day  of  God's  power  ;  and  the  bright  example 
of  his  life,  illustrated  and  diffused  by  the  account 
of  him  published  since  his  death,  has  afforded  an 
occasion  of  much  praise  to  God,  and  much  com- 
fort to  his  people. 

After  the  mention  of  such  names,  can  you  per- 
mit me,  sir,  to  add  my  own  ?  If  I  do,  it  must  be 
with  a  very  humbling  distinction.  These  once 
eminent  sinners  proved  eminent  christians :  much 
had  been  forgiven  them,  they  loved  much.  St. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


11 


Paul  could  say,  "  The  grace  bestowed  upon  rue 
was  not  in  vain  ;  for  I  labored  more  abundantly 
than  they  all."  Colonel  Gardiner  likewise  was 
as  a  city  set  upon  a  hill,  a  burning  and  a  shining 
light :  the  manner  of  his  conversion  was  hardly 
more  singular  than  the  whole  course  of  his  con- 
versation from  that  time  to  his  death.  Here,  alas  ! 
the  parallel  greatly  fails.  It  has  not  been  thus 
with  me.  I  must  take  deserved  shame  to  myself, 
that  I  have  made  very  unsuitable  returns  for  what 
I  have  received.  But,  if  the  question  is  only  con- 
cerning the  patience  and  long-suffering  of  God, 
the  wonderful  interposition  of  his  providence  in 
favor  of  an  unworthy  sinner,  the  power  of  his 
grace  in  softening  the  hardest  heart,  and  the 
riches  of  his  mercy  in  pardoning  the  most  enor- 
mous and  aggravated  transgressions  ;  in  these 
respects  I  know  no  case  more  extraordinary  than 
my  own :  and  indeed  most  persons  to  whom  I 
have  related  my  story  have  thought  it  .vorthy 
of  being  preserved. 

I  never  gave  any  succinct  account,  in  writing, 
of  the  Lord's  dealing  with  me,  till  very  lately : 
for  I  was  deterred,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  great 
difficulty  of  writing  properly  when  self  is  con- 
cerned ;  on  the  other,  by  the  ill  use  which  per- 
sons of  corrupt  and  perverse  minds  are  often 
known  to  make  of  such  instances.  The  Psalmist 
reminds  us,  that  a  reserve  in  these  things  is  pro- 


12 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


per,  when  he  says,  ff  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  thai 
fear  Goe/,  and  I  will  declare  what  he  hath  done 
for  my  soul  j"  and  our  Lord  cautions  us  not  to 
ft  cast  pearls  before  swine.1'  The  pearls  of  a 
christian  are,  perhaps,  his  choice  experiences 
of  the  Lord's  power  and  love  in  the  concerns  of 
his  soul ;  and  these  should  not  be  at  all  adven- 
tures made  public,  lest  we  give  occasion  to  earth- 
ly and  grovelling  souls  to  profane  what  they  can- 
not understand.  These  were  the  chief  reasons 
of  my  backwardness ;  but  a  few  weeks  since  I 
yielded  to  the  judgment  and  request  of  a  much- 
respected  friend,  and  sent  him  a  relation  at  large, 
in  a  series  of  eight  letters.  The  event  has  been 
what  I  little  expected :  I  wrote  to  one  person  ;  but 
my  letters  have  fallen  into  many  hands :  amongst 
others,  I  find  they  have  reached  your  notice  ;  and, 
instead  of  blaming  me  for  being  too  tedious  and 
circumstantial,  which  wras  the  fault  I  feared  I  had 
committed,  you  are  pleased  to  desire  a  still  more 
distinct  detail.  As  you  and  others  of  my  friends 
apprehend  my  compliance  with  this  request  may 
be  attended  with  some  good  effect,  may  promote 
the  pleasing  work  of  praise  to  our  adorable  Ke- 
deemer,  or  confirm  the  faith  of  some  or  other  of 
his  people,  I  am  willing  to  obey :  I  give  up  my 
own  reasonings  upon  the  inexpediency  of  so  in- 
considerable a  person  as  myself  adventuring  in 
so  public  a  point  of  view.    If  God  may  be  glori- 


IATKODUCTOKV. 


13 


tied  on  my  behalf,  and  his  children  in  any  mea- 
sure comforted  or  instructed  by  what  I  have  to 
declare  of  his  goodness,  1  shall  be  satisfied ;  and 
am  content  to  leave  all  other  possible  conse- 
quences of  this  undertaking  in  his  hands  who 
does  all  things  well. 

I  must  again  have  recourse  to  my  memory,  as 
I  retained  no  copies  of  the  letters  you  saw.  So 
far  as  I  can  recollect,  what  I  then  wrote  I  will 
relate  5  but  shall  not  affect  a  needless  variety  of 
phrase  and  manner,  merely  because  those  have 
been  already  perused  by  many.  I  may,  perhaps, 
in  some  places,  when  repeating  the  same  facts, 
express  myself  in  nearly  the  same  words  ;  yet  I 
propose,  according  to  desire,  to  make  this  rela- 
tion more  explicit  and  particular  than  the  former  ; 
especially  towards  the  close,  which  I  wound  up 
hastily,  lest  my  friend  should  be  wearied.  I  hope 
you  will  likewise  excuse  me,  if  I  do  not  strictly 
confine  myself  to  narration,  but  now  and  then 
intersperse  such  reflections  as  may  offer  while  I 
am  writing  ;  and  though  you  have  signified  your 
intentions  of  communicating  what  I  send  you  to 
others,  I  must  not,  on  this  account,  affect  a  con- 
ciseness and  correctness,  which  is  not  my  natural 
talent,  lest  the  whole  should  appear  dry  and  con- 
strained. I  shall,  therefore,  if  possible,  think  only 
of  you,  and  write  with  that  confidence  and  free- 
dom which  your  friendship  and  candor  deserve. 

Newtou.  2 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


This  sheet  may  stand  as  a  preface  ;  and  I  pur- 
pose, as  far  as  I  can,  to  intermit  many  other  en- 
gagements, until  I  have  completed  the  task  you 
have  assigned  me.  In  the  meantime  I  entreat  the 
assistance  of  your  prayers,  that  in  this,  and  all 
my  poor  attempts,  I  may  have  a  single  eye  to 
His  glory  who  was  pleased  to  call  me  out  of  hor- 
rid darkness  into  the  marvellous  light  of  his 
Gospel. 


LETTER  II. 

Early  History  to  the  Age  of  17. — A.  D.  1742. 

I  can  sometimes  feel  a  pleasure  in  repeating 
the  grateful  acknowledgment  of  David, ff  O  Lord, 
I  am  thy  servant,  the  son  of  thine  handmaid  ;  thou 
hast  loosed  my  bonds."  The  tender  mercies  of 
God  toward  me  were  manifested  in  the  first  mo- 
ment of  my  life.  I  was  born,  as  it  were,  in  his 
house.  My  mother  (as  I  have  heard  from  many) 
was  a  pious,  experienced  christian  :  she  was  a 
dissenter,  in  communion  with  the  late  Dr.  Jen- 
nings. I  was  her  only  child  ;  and  as  she  was  of  a 
weak  constitution,  and  a  retired  temper,  almost  her 


EARLY  LIFE. 


15 


whole  employment  was  the  care  of  my  education. 
I  have  some  faint  remembrance  of  her  care  and 
instructions.  At  a  time  when  I  could  not  be  more 
than  three  years  of  age,  she  herself  taught  me 
English ;  and  with  so  much  success,  (as  I  had 
something  of  a  forward  turn,)  that  when  I  was 
four  years  old  I  could  read  with  propriety  in  any 
common  book  that  offered.  She  stored  my  memo- 
ry, which  was  then  very  retentive,  with  many 
valuable  pieces,  chapters  and  portions  of  Scrip- 
ture, catechisms,  hymns  and  poems.  My  temper 
at  that  time  seemed  quite  suitable  to  her  wishes  ; 
I  had  little  inclination  to  the  noisy  sports  of  chil- 
dren, and  was  best  pleased  when  in  her  company, 
and  always  as  willing  to  learn  as  she  was  to  teach 
me.  How  far  the  best  education  may  fall  short 
of  reaching  the  heart,  will  strongly  appear  in  the 
sequel  of  my  history  :  yet  I  think,  for  the  encou- 
ragement of  pious  parents  to  go  on  in  the  good 
way  of  doing  their  part  faithfully  to  form  their 
children's  minds,  I  may  properly  propose  myself 
as  an  instance.  Though  in  process  of  time  I  sin- 
ned away  all  the  advantages  of  these  early  im- 
pressions, yet  they  were  for  a  great  while  a  re- 
straint upon  me  ;  they  returned  again  and  again, 
and  it  was  very  long  before  I  could  wholly  shake 
them  off* ;  and  when  the  Lord  at  length  opened  my 
eyes  I  found  a  great  benefit  from  the  recollec- 
tion of  them.  Further,  my  dear  mother,  besides 


16 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


the  pains  she  took  with  me,  often  commended 
me,  with  many  prayers  and  tears  to  God  ;  and  I 
doubt  not  but  I  reap  the  fruits  of  these  prayers 
to  this  hour. 

My  mother  observed  my  early  progress  with 
peculiar  pleasure,  and  intended,  from  the  first,  to 
bring  me  up  with  a  view  to  the  ministry,  if  it 
should  please  God  to  convert  me  by  his  grace, 
and  incline  my  heart  to  the  work.  In  my  sixth 
year  I  began  to  learn  Latin  ;  but  before  I  had 
time  to  know  much  about  it,  the  intended  plan 
of  my  education  was  broken  short.  The  Lord's 
designs  were  far  beyond  the  views  of  an  earthly 
parent :  he  was  pleased  to  reserve  me  for  unusual 
proof  of  his  patience,  providence  and  grace  ;  and 
therefore  overruled  the  purpose  of  my  friends, 
by  depriving  me  of  this  excellent  parent  when  I 
was  something  under  seven  years  old.  I  was  bom 
the  24th  of  July,  1725,  and  she  died  the  11th  of 
that  month,  1732. 

My  father  was  then  at  sea :  (he  was  a  com- 
mander in  the  Mediterranean  trade  at  that  time  :) 
he  came  home  the  following  year,  and  soon  after 
married  again.  Thus  I  passed  into  different  hands. 
I  was  well  treated  in  all  other  respects  ;  but  the 
loss  of  my  mother's  instructions  was  not  repair- 
ed. I  was  now  permitted  to  mingle  with  careless 
and  profane  children,  and  soon  began  to  learn 
their  ways.  Soon  after  my  father's  marriage  I  was 


EARLY  LIFE. 


17 


sent  to  a  boarding-school  in  Essex,  where  the  im- 
prudent severity  of  the  master  almost  broke  my 
spirit  and  relish  for  books.  With  him  I  forgot  the 
first  principles  and  rules  of  arithmetic,  which  my 
mother  had  taught  me  years  before.  I  staid  there 
two  years :  in  the  last  of  the  two,  a  new  usher 
coming,  who  observed  and  suited  my  temper,  I 
took  to  the  Latin  with  great  eagerness ;  so  that 
before  I  was  ten  years  old  I  reached  and  main- 
tained the  first  post  in  the  second  class,  which  in 
that  school  read  Tully  and  Virgil.  I  believe  I  was 
pushed  forward  too  fast,  and  therefore,  not  being 
grounded,  I  soon  lost  all  I  had  learned  ;  (for  I  left 
school  in  my  tenth  year  ;)  and  when  I  long  after- 
ward undertook  the  Latin  language  from  books, 
I  think  I  had  little,  if  any,  advantage  from  what  I 
had  learned  before. 

My  father's  second  marriage  was  from  a  family 
in  Essex  ;  and  when  I  was  eleven  years  old  he 
took  me  with  him  to  sea.  He  was  a  man  of  re- 
markable good  sense,  and  great  knowledge  of  the 
world  ;  he  took  great  care  of  my  morals,  but 
could  not  supply  my  mother's  part.  Having  been 
educated  himself  in  Spain,  he  always  observed  an 
air  of  distance  and  severity  in  his  carriage,  which 
overawed  and  discouraged  my  spirit.  I  was  al- 
ways in  fear  when  before  him,  and  therefore  he 
had  the  less  influence.  From  that  time  to  the 
year  1742, 1  made  several  voyages  ;  but  with  con- 


18  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


siderable  intervals  between ;  which  were  chiefly- 
spent  in  the  country,  excepting  a  few  months  in 
my  fifteenth  year,  when  I  was  placed  upon  a  very 
advantageous  prospect  at  Alicant  in  Spain.  But 
my  unsettled  behavior,  and  impatience  of  re- 
straint, rendered  that  design  abortive.* 

In  this  period  my  temper  and  conduct  were 
exceedingly  various.  At  school,  or  soon  after,  I 
had  little  concern  about  religion,  and  easily  re- 
ceived very  ill  impressions.  But  I  was  often  dis- 
turbed with  convictions.  I  was  fond  of  reading, 
from  a  child.  Among  other  books,  Bennefs  Chris- 
tian Oratory  often  came  in  my  way  ;  and  though 
I  understood  but  little  of  it,  the  course  of  life 
therein  recommended  appeared  very  desirable, 
and  I  was  inclined  to  attempt  it.  I  began  to  pray, 
to  read  the  Scripture,  and  keep  a  sort  of  diary.  I 
was  presently  religious  in  my  own  eyes ;  but, 
alas!  this  seeming  goodness  had  no  solid  founda- 
tion, but  passed  away  like  a  morning  cloud,  or  the 
early  dew.  I  was  soon  weary,  gradually  gave  it 
up,  and  became  worse  than  before.  Instead  of 
prayer,  I  learned  to  curse  and  blaspheme,  and 
was  exceedingly  wicked  when  not  under  my  pa- 

*  Mr.  Newton  elsewhere  states  that  he  went  aboard  his 
father's  ship  the  day  he  was  eleven  years  old,  and  made  five 
voyages  with  him  to  the  Mediterranean.  His  father  left  the 
sea  in  1742,  and  in  1748  went  as  Governor  of  York  Fort,  in 
Hudson's  Bay,  where  he  died  in  the  year  1750, 


EARLY  LIFE. 


19 


rent's  view.  All  this  was  before  I  was  twelve 
years  old.  About  this  time  I  had  a  dangerous  fall 
from  a  horse  :  I  was  thrown,  I  believe,  within  a  few 
inches  of  a  hedge-row  newly  cut  down.  I  got  no 
hurt ;  but  could  not  avoid  taking  notice' of  a  gra- 
cious providence  in  my  deliverance  ;  for  had  I  fallen 
upon  the  stakes,  I  had  inevitably  been  killed.  My 
conscience  suggested  to  me  the  dreadful  conse- 
quences, if,  in  such  a  state  I  had  been  summoned 
to  appear  before  God.  I  presently  broke  off  from 
my  profane  practices,  and  appeared  quite  altered. 
But  it  was  not  long  before  I  declined  again.  These 
struggles  between  sin  and  conscience  were  often 
repeated ;  but  the  consequence  was,  that  every 
relapse  sunk  me  into  still  greater  depths  of  wick- 
edness. I  was  once  roused  by  the  loss  of  an  in- 
timate companion.  We  had  agreed  to  go  on  board 
a  man-of-war  ;  (I  think  it  was  on  the  Sabbath ;) 
but  I  providentially  came  too  late ;  the  boat  was 
overset,  and  he  and  several  others  were  drowned. 
I  was  invited  to  the  funeral  of  my  play-fellow, 
and  was  exceedingly  affected,  to  think  that  by  a 
delay  of  a  few  minutes  (which  had  much  dis- 
pleased and  angered  me  till  I  saw  the  event)  my 
life  had  been  preserved.  However,  this  likewise 
was  soon  forgot.  At  another  time,  the  perusal  of 
the  Family  Instructor  put  me  upon  a  partial  and 
transient  reformation.  In  brief,  though  I  cannot 
distinctly  relate  particulars,  I  think  I  took  up  and 


20 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


laid  aside  a  religious  profession  three  or  four  dif- 
ferent times  before  I  was  sixteen  years  of  age  ; 
but  all  this  while  my  heart  was  insincere.  I  often 
saw  the  necessity  of  religion  as  a  means  of  escap- 
ing hell;  but  I  loved  sin,  and  was  unwilling  to 
forsake  it.  Instances  of  this,  I  can  remember, 
were  frequent.  In  the  midst  of  all  my  forms,  I 
was  so  strangely  blind  and  stupid,  that  sometimes 
when  I  have  been  determined  upon  things  which  I 
knew  were  sinful,  and  contrary  to  my  duty,  I  could 
not  go  on  quietly  till  I  had  first  despatched  my 
ordinary  task  of  prayer,  in  which  I  have  grudged 
every  moment  of  my  time  ;  and  when  this  was 
finished,  my  conscience  was  in  some  measure 
pacified  and  I  could  rush  into  folly  with  little 
remorse. 

My  last  reform  was  the  most  remarkable,  both 
for  degree  and  continuance.  Of  this  period,  at 
least  of  some  part  of  it,  I  may  say  in  the  apos- 
tle's words,  "  After  the  straitest  of  our  religion, 
I  lived  a  Pharisee."  I  did  every  thing  that  might 
be  expected  from  a  person  entirely  ignorant  of 
God's  righteousness,  and  desirous  to  establish 
his  own.  I  spent  the  greatest  part  of  every  day 
in  reading  the  Scriptures,  meditation  and  prayer. 
I  fasted  often  ;  I  even  abstained  from  all  animal 
food  for  three  months ;  I  would  hardly  answer  a 
question  for  fear  of  speaking  an  idle  word.  I 
seemed  to  bemoan  my  former  miscarriages  very 


EARLY  LIFE. 


21 


earnestly,  sometimes  with  tears.  In  short,  I  be- 
came an  ascetic,  and  endeavored,  so  far  as  my 
situation  would  permit,  to  renounce  society,  that 
I  might  avoid  temptation.  I  continued  in  this  se- 
rious mood  (I  cannot  give  it  a  higher  title)  for 
more  than  two  years  without  any  considerable 
breaking  off :  but  it  was  a  poor  religion  ;  it  left 
me,  in  many  respects,  under  the  power  of  sin  ; 
and,  so  far  as  it  prevailed,  only  tended  to  make 
me  gloomy,  stupid,  unsociable  and  useless. 

Such  was  the  frame  of  my  mind  when  I  became 
acquainted  with  a  work  of  Lord  Shaftesbury's.  I 
saw  the  second  volume  of  his  Characteristics  in  a 
petty  shop  at  Middleburg,  in  Holland.  The  title 
allured  me  to  buy  it,  and  the  style  and  manner 
gave  me  great  pleasure  in  reading,  especially  the 
second  piece,  which  his  lordship,  with  great  pro- 
priety, has  entitled  A  Rhapsody.  Nothing  could 
be  more  suited  to  the  romantic  turn  of  my  mind 
than  the  address  of  this  pompous  declamation. 
Of  the  design  and  tendency  I  was  not  aware:  I 
thought  the  author  a  most  religious  person,  and 
that  I  had  only  to  follow  him  and  be  happy.  Thus, 
with  fine  words  and  fair  speeches,  my  simple 
heart  was  beguiled.  This  book  was  always  in  my 
hand :  I  read  it  till  I  could  very  nearly  repeat  the 
Rhapsody,  word  for  word,  from  beginning  to  end. 
No  immediate  effect  followed ;  but  it  operated 
like  a  slow  poison,  and  prepared  the  way  f<  r  all 
that  followed. 


22 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


This  letter  brings  my  history  down  to  Decem- 
ber, 1742.  I  was  then  lately  returned  from  a  voy- 
age ;  and  my  father  not  intending  me  for  the  sea 
again,  was  thinking  how  to  settle  me  in  the  world : 
but  I  had  little  life  or  spirit  for  business ;  I  knew 
but  little  of  men  and  things.  I  was  fond  of  a  vi- 
sionary scheme  of  a  contemplative  life,  a  medley 
of  religion,  philosophy  and  indolence  j  and  was 
quite  averse  to  the  thoughts  of  an  industrious  ap- 
plication to  business.  At  length  a  merchant  in 
Liverpool,  an  intimate  friend  of  my  father's,  (to 
whom,  as  the  instrument  of  God's  goodness,  I 
have  since  been  chiefly  indebted  for  all  my  earth- 
ly comforts,)  proposed  to  send  me  for  some  years 
to  Jamaica,  and  to  charge  himself  with  the  care 
of  my  future  fortune.  I  consented  to  this;  and 
every  thing  was  prepared  for  my  voyage.  I  was 
upon  the  point  of  setting  out  the  following  week. 
In  the  meantime  my  father  sent  me  on  some  bu- 
siness to  a  place  a  few  miles  beyond  Maidstone, 
in  Kent ;  and  this  little  journey,  which  was  to 
have  been  only  for  three  or  four  days,  occasioned 
a  sudden  and  remarkable  turn,  which  roused  me 
from  the  habitual  indolence  I  had  contracted,  and 
gave  rise  to  the  series  of  uncommon  dispensa- 
tions of  which  you  desire  a  more  particular  ac- 
count. So  true  it  is,  that  "the  way  of  man  is  not 
in  himself ;  it  is  not  in  man  that  walketh  to  di- 
rect his  steps." 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  MRS.  NEWTON.  23 


LETTER  III. 

Acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Sewton, —  Voyage  to  Venice. — Im- 
pressed for  a  Man-of-War.— 1743  to  1745. 

A  few  days  before  my  intended  journey  into 
Kent,  I  received  an  invitation  to  visit  a  family  in 
that  country.  They  were  distant  relations,  but 
very  intimate  friends  of  my  dear  mother.  She 
died  in  their  house ;  but  a  coolness  took  place 
upon  my  father's  second  marriage,  and  I  had 
heard  nothing  of  them  for  many  years.  As  my 
road  lay  within  half  a  mile  of  their  house,  I  ob- 
tained my  father's  leave  to  call  on  them.  I  was, 
however,  very  indifferent  about  it,  and  some- 
times thought  of  passing  on :  however,  I  went. 
I  was  known  at  first  sight,  before  I  could  tell  my 
name,  and  met  with  the  kindest  reception,  as  the 
child  of  a  dear  deceased  friend.  My  friends  had 
two  daughters.  The  eldest  (as  I  understood 
some  years  afterward)  had  been  often  consider- 
ed by  her  mother  and  mine  as  a  future  wife  for 
me  from  the  time  of  her  birth.  I  know,  indeed, 
that  intimate  friends  frequently  amuse  them- 
selves with  such  distant  prospects  for  their  chil- 


2* 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


dren,  and  that  they  miscarry  much  oftener  than 
succeed.  I  do  not  say  that  my  mother  predicted 
what  was  to  happen,  yet  there  was  something 
remarkable  in  the  manner  of  its  taking  place. 
All  intercourse  between  the  families  had  been 
long  broken  off;  I  was  going  into  a  foreign 
country,  and  only  called  to  pay  a  hasty  visit ; 
and  this  I  should  not  have  thought  of,  but  for  a 
message  received  just  at  that  crisis,  for  I  had 
not  been  invited  at  any  time  before.  Thus  the 
circumstances  were  precarious  in  the  highest 
degree,  and  the  event  was  as  extraordinary.  Al- 
most at  the  first  sight  of  this  girl  (for  she  was 
then  under  fourteen)  I  was  impressed  with  an 
affection  for  her  which  never  abated  or  lost  its 
influence  a  single  moment  in  my  heart  from  that 
hour.  In  degree,  it  actually  equalled  all  that  the 
-writers  of  romance  have  imagined ;  in  duration 
it  was  unalterable.  I  soon  lost  all  sense  of  reli- 
gion, and  became  deaf  to  the  remonstrances  of 
conscience  and  prudence;  but  my  regard  for  her 
was  always  the  same ;  and  I  may  perhaps  ven- 
ture to  say,  that  none  of  the  scenes  of  misery 
and  wickedness  I  afterward  experienced,  ever 
banished  her  a  single  hour  together  from  my 
waking  thoughts,  for  the  seven  following  years. 

Give  me  leave,  sir,  to  reflect  a  little  upon  this 
unexpected  incident,  and  to  consider  its  influ- 
ence upon  my  future  life,  and  how  far  it  was 


ACQUAINTANCE   WITH  MRS.  NEWTON. 


25 


subservient  to  the  views  of  Divine  Providence 
concerning  me  ;  which  seem  to  have  been  two- 
fold ;  that  by  being  given  up  for  a  while  to  the 
consequences  of  my  own  wilfulness,  and  after- 
ward reclaimed  by  a  high  hand,  my  case,  so  far 
as  it  should  be  known,  might  be  both  a  warning 
and  an  encouragement  to  others. 

In  the  first  place,  hardly  any  thing  less  than 
this  violent  and  commanding  passion  would  have 
been  sufficient  to  awaken  me  from  the  dull  me- 
lancholy habit  I  had  contracted.  I  was  almost  a 
misanthrope,  notwithstanding  I  so  much  admired 
the  pictures  of  virtue  and  benevolence,  as  drawn 
by  Lord  Shaftesbury ;  but  now  my  reluctance  to 
active  life  was  overpowered  at  once,  and  I  was 
willing  to  be  or  to  do  any  thing  which  might  sub- 
serve the  accomplishment  of  my  wishes  at  some 
future  time. 

Farther,  when  I  afterward  made  shipwreck  of 
faith,  hope  and  conscience,  my  love  to  this  per- 
son was  the  only  remaining  principle  which  in 
any  degree  supplied  their  place ;  and  the  bare 
possibility  of  seeing  her  again  was  the  only  pre- 
sent and  obvious  means  of  restraining  me  from 
the  most  horrid  designs  against  myself  and 
others. 

But  then  the  ill  effects  it  brought  upon  me 
counterbalanced  these  advantages.  The  interval 
usually  styled  the  time  of  courtship,  is  indeed  a 

Newton.  g 


26 


LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


pleasing  part  of  life,  where  there  is  a  mutual  af- 
fection, the  consent  of  friends,  a  reasonable  pros- 
pect as  to  settlement,  and  the  whole  is  conduct- 
ed in  a  prudential  manner,  and  in  subordination 
to  the  will  and  fear  of  God.  When  things  are 
thus  situated,  it  is  a  blessing  to  be  susceptive  of 
the  tender  passions.  But  when  these  concomi- 
tants are  wanting,  what  we  call  /ot'e,  is  the  most 
tormenting  passion  in  itself,  and  the  most  de- 
structive in  its  consequences  that  can  be  named. 
And  they  were  all  wanting  in  my  case.  I  durst 
not  mention  it  to  her  friends,  or  to  my  own,  nor 
indeed,  for  a  considerable  time,  to  herself,  as  I 
could  make  no  proposals :  it  remained  as  a  dark 
fire,  locked  up  in  my  own  breast,  which  gave  me 
constant  uneasiness.  By  introducing  an  idola- 
trous regard  to  a  creature,  it  greatly  weakened 
my  sense  of  religion,  and  made  farther  way  for 
the  entrance  of  infidel  principles  ;  and  though  it 
i  seemed  to  promise  great  things  as  an  incentive 
\^to  diligence  and  activity  in  life,  in  reality  it  per- 
formed nothing.  I  often  formed  mighty  projects 
in  my  mind  of  what  1  would  willingly  do  or  suf- 
fer for  the  sake  of  her  I  loved  ;  yet  while  I  could 
have  her  company  I  was  incapable  of  forcing 
myself  away  to  improve  opportunities  that  offer- 
ed. Still  less  could  it  do  in  regulating  my  con- 
duct. It  did  not  prevent  me  from  engaging  in  a 
long  train  of  excess  and  riot,  utterly  unworthy 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  MRS.  NEWTON.  27 


the  honorable  pretensions  I  had  formed.  And 
though,  through  the  wonderful  interposition  of 
Divine  goodness,  the  maze  of  my  follies  was  at 
length  unravelled,  and  my  wishes  crowned  in 
such  a  manner  as  overpaid  my  sufferings,  yet  I 
am  sure  I  would  not  go  through  the  same  series 
of  trouble  again  to  possess  all  the  treasures  of 
both  the  Indies.  I  have  enlarged  more  than  I  in- 
tended on  this  point,  as  perhaps  these  papers 
may  be  useful  to  caution  others  against  indulg- 
ing an  ungovernable  passion,  by  my  painful  ex- 
perience. How  often  may  such  headstrong  vota- 
ries be  said  u  to  sow  the  wind,  and  to  reap  the 
whirlwind !" 

My  heart  being  now  fixed  and  riveted  to  a  par- 
ticular object,  I  considered  every  thing  I  was 
concerned  with  in  a  new  light.  I  concluded  it 
would  be  absolutely  impossible  to  live  at  such  a 
distance  as  Jamaica,  for  a  term  of  four  or  five 
years ;  and  therefore  determined,  at  all  events, 
that  I  would  not  go.  I  could  not  bear  either  to 
acquaint  my  father  with  the  true  reason,  or  to 
invent  a  false  one  ;  therefore,  without  taking  any 
notice  to  him  why  I  did  so,  I  stayed  three  weeks, 
instead  of  three  days,  in  Kent,  till  I  thought  (as 
it  proved)  the  opportunity  would  be  lost,  and  the 
ships  sailed.  I  then  returned  to  London.  I  had 
highly  displeased  my  father  by  this  disobedience  ; 
but  he  was  more  easily  reconciled  than  I  could 


28 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


have  expected.  In  a  little  time  I  sailed  with  a 
friend  of  his  to  Venice.  In  this  voyage  I  was 
exposed  to  the  company  and  ill-example  of  the 
common  sailors,  among  whom  I  ranked.  Impor- 
tunity and  opportunity  presenting  every  day,  I 
once  more  began  to  relax  from  the  sobriety  and 
order  which  I  had  observed,  in  some  degree,  for 
more  than  two  years.  I  was  sometimes  pierced 
with  sharp  convictions  ;  but  though  I  made  a  few 
faint  efforts  to  stop,  I  at  no  time  recovered  from 
this  declension,  as  I  had  done  from  several  be- 
fore :  I  did  not  indeed,  as  yet,  turn  out  profli- 
gate: but  I  was  making  large  strides  toward  a 
total  apostacy  from  God.  The  most  remarkable 
check  and  alarm  I  received  (and,  for  what  I 
know,  the  last)  was  by  a  dream,  which  made  a 
very  strong,  though  not  abiding  impression  upon 
my  mind. 

The  consideration  of  whom  I  am  writing  to, 
renders  it  needless  for  me  either  to  enter  upon  a 
discussion  of  the  nature  of  dreams  in  general, 
or  to  make  an  apology  for  recording  my  own. 
Those  who  acknowledge  Scripture  will  allow 
that  there  have  been  monitory  and  supernatural 
dreams,  evident  communications  from  heaven, 
either  directing  or  foretelling  future  events:  and 
those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  history  and 
experience  of  the  people  of  God,  are  well  assured 
that  such  intimations  have  not  been  totally  with- 


VOYAGE  TO  VENICE. 


29 


held  in  any  period  down  to  the  present  times. 
Reason,  far  from  contradicting  this  supposition, 
strongly  pleads  for  it,  where  the  process  of  rea- 
soning is  rightly  understood  and  carefully  pur- 
sued. So  that  a  late  eminent  writer,  who  I  pre- 
sume is  not  generally  charged  with  enthusiasm, 
undertakes  to  prove  that  the  phenomenon  of 
dreaming  is  inexplicable  at  least,  if  not  absolute- 
ly impossible,  without  taking  in  the  agency  and 
intervention  of  spiritual  beings,  to  us  invisible. 
For  my  own  part,  I  can  say,  without  scruple, 
M  The  dream  is  certain,  and  the  interpretation 
thereof  sure."  I  am  sure  I  dreamed  to  the  fol- 
lowing effect ;  and  I  cannot  doubt,  from  what  I 
have  seen  since,  that  it  had  a  direct  and  easy 
application  to  my  own  circumstances,  to  the 
dangers  in  which  I  was  about  to  plunge  myself, 
and  to  the  unmerited  deliverance  and  mercy 
which  God  would  be  pleased  to  afford  me  in  the 
time  of  my  distress. 

Though  I  have  written  out  a  relation  of  this 
dream  more  than  once  for  others,  it  has  happen- 
ed that  I  never  reserved  a  copy ;  but  the  prin- 
cipal incidents  are  so  deeply  engraven  on  my 
memory,  that  I  believe  I  am  not  liable  to  any 
considerable  variation  in  repeating  the  account. 
The  scene  presented  to  my  imagination  was  the 
harbor  of  Venice,  where  we  had  lately  been.  I 
thought  it  was  night,  and  my  watch  upon  the 

3* 


30 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


deck ;  and  that,  as  I  was  walking  to  and  fro  by 
myself,  a  person  came  to  me,  (I  do  not  remem- 
ber from  whence,)  and  brought  me  a  ring,  with 
an  express  charge  to  keep  it  carefully :  assuring 
me,  that  while  I  preserved  that  ring  I  should  be 
•  happy  and  successful ;  but  if  I  lost  or  parted 
with  it,  I  must  expect  nothing  but  trouble  and 
misery.  I  accepted  the  present  and  the  terms 
willingly,  not  in  the  least  doubting  my  own  care 
to  preserve  it,  and  highly  satisfied  to  have  my 
happiness  in  my  own  keeping.  I  was  engaged  in 
these  thoughts,  when  a  second  person  came  to 
me,  and  observing  the  ring  on  my  finger,  took 
occasion  to  ask  me  some  questions  concerning 
it.  I  readily  told  him  its  virtues  ;  and  his  answer 
expressed  a  surprise  at  my  weakness,  in  expect- 
ing such  effects  from  a  ring.  I  think  he  reason- 
ed with  me  some  time  upon  the  impossibility  of 
the  thing;  and  at  length  UTged  me,  in  direct 
terms,  to  throw  it  away.  At  first  I  was  shocked 
at  the  proposal ;  but  his  insinuations  prevailed. 
I  began  to  reason  and  doubt  myself ;  and  at  last 
plucked  it  off  my  finger,  and  dropped  it  over  the 
ship's  side  into  the  water;  which  it  had  no  sooner 
touched,  than  I  saw,  the  same  instant,  a  terrible 
fire  burst  out  from  a  range  of  the  mountains,  (a 
part  of  the  Alps,)  which  appeared  at  some  dis- 
tance behind  the  city  of  Venice.  I  saw  the  hills 
as  distinct  as  if  awake,  and  they  were  all  in 


VOYAGE  TO  VENICE. 


31 


flames.  I  perceived,  too  late,  my  folly  >  and  my 
tempter,  with  an  air  of  insult,  informed  me,  that 
all  the  mercy  God  had  in  reserve  for  me  was 
comprised  in  that  ring  which  I  had  wilfully 
thrown  away.  I  understood  that  I  must  now  go 
with  him  to  the  burning  mountains,  and  that  all 
the  flames  I  saw  were  kindled  upon  my  account. 
I  trembled,  and  was  in  a  great  agony  ;  so  that  it 
was  surprising  I  did  not  then  awake:  but  my 
dream  continued  ;  and  when  I  thought  myself 
upon  the  point  of  a  constrained  departure,  and 
stood,  self-condemned,  without  plea  or  hope, 
suddenly,  either  a  third  person,  or  the  same  who 
brought  the  ring  at  first,  came  to  me,  (I  am  not 
certain  which,)  and  demanded  the  cause  of  my 
grief.  I  told  him  the  plain  case,  confessing  that 
I  had  ruined  myself  wilfully,  and  deserved  no 
pity.  He  blamed  my  rashness,  and  asked  if  I 
should  be  wiser  supposing  I  had  my  ring  again  1 
I  could  hardly  answer  to  this ;  for  I  thought  it 
was  gone  beyond  recall.  I  believe,  indeed,  I  had 
not  time  to  answer,  before  I  saw  this  unexpected 
friend  go  down  under  the  water,  just  in  the  spot 
where  I  had  dropped  it ;  and  he  soon  returned, 
bringing  the  ring  with  him.  The  moment  he 
came  on  board  the  flames  in  the  mountains  were 
extinguished,  and  my  seducer  left  me.  Then  was 
ff  the  prey  taken  from  the  hand  of  the  mighty, 
and  the  lawful  captive  delivered/'    My  fears 


32 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


were  at  an  end,  and  with  joy  and  gratitude  I  ap- 
proached my  kind  deliverer  to  receive  the  ring 
again;  but  he  refused  to  return  it,  and  spoke  to 
this  effect :  If  you  should  be  intrusted  with  this 
ring  again,  you  would  very  soon  bring  yourself 
into  the  same  distress:  you  are  not  able  to  keep 
it  j  but  I  will  preserve  it  for  you,  and,  whenever 
it  is  needful,  will  produce  it  in  your  behalf." 
Upon  this  I  awoke  in  a  state  of  mind  not  easy  to 
be  described :  I  could  hardly  eat,  or  sleep,  or 
transact  my  necessary  business,  for  two  or  three 
days.  But  the  impression  soon  wore  off,  and  in 
a  little  time  I  totally  forgot  it ;  and  I  think  it 
hardly  occurred  to  my  mind  again  till  several 
years  afterward.  It  will  appear,  in  the  course  of 
these  papers,  that  a  time  came  when  I  found 
myself  in  circumstances  very  nearly  resembling 
those  suggested  by  this  extraordinary  dream, 
when  I  stood  helpless  and  hopeless  upon  the 
brink  of  an  awful  eternity ;  and  I  doubt  not  that, 
had  the  eyes  of  my  mind  been  then  opened,  I 
should  have  seen  my  grand  enemy,  who  had  se- 
duced me  wilfully  to  renounce  and  cast  away  my 
religious  profession,  and  to  involve  myself  in  the 
most  complicated  crimes,  pleased  with  my  ago- 
nies, and  waiting  for  a  permission  to  seize  and 
bear  away  my  soul  to  his  place  of  torment.  1 
should,  perhaps,  have  seen  likewise,  that  Jesus, 
whom  I  had  persecuted  and  defied,  rebuking  the 


VOYAGE  TO  VENICE. 


33 


adversary,  challenging  me  for  his  own,  as  a  brand 
plucked  out  of  the  fire,  and  saying,  "  Deliver  him 
from  going  down  to  the  pit :  I  have  found  a  ran- 
som." However,  though  I  saw  not  these  things, 
I  found  the  benefit :  I  obtained  mercy.  The  Lord 
answered  for  me  in  the  day  of  my  distress  ;  and 
blessed  be  his  name,  he  who  restored  the  ring, 
(or  what  was  signified  by  it,)  vouchsafes  to  keep 
it.  0  what  an  unspeakable  comfort  is  this,  that 
I  am  not  in  my  own  keeping ! — "  The  Lord  is  my 
Shepherd."  I  have  been  enabled  to  trust  my  all 
in  his  hands ;  and  I  know  in  whom  I  have  be- 
lieved. Satan  still  desires  to  have  me,  that  he 
might  sift  me  as  wheat ;  but  my  Savior  has  pray- 
ed for  me,  that  my  faith  may  not  fail.  Here  is 
my  security  and  power;  a  bulwark  against  which 
the  gates  of  hell  cannot  prevail.  But  for  this, 
many  a  time  and  often  (if  possible)  I  should  have 
ruined  myself  since  my  first  deliverance  ;  nay,  I 
should  fall,  and  stumble,  and  perish  still,  after  all 
that  the  Lord  has  done  for  me,  if  his  faithfulness 
were  not  engaged  in  my  behalf,  to  be  my  sun 
and  shield  even  unto  death.  "  Bless  the  Lord, 
O  my  soul." 

Nothing  very  remarkable  occurred  in  the  fol- 
lowing part  of  that  voyage.  I  returned  home  in 
December,  1743,  and  soon  after  repeated  my 
visit  to  Kent,  where  I  protracted  my  stay  in  the 
same  imprudent  manner  I  had    done   before ; 


34  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


which  again  disappointed  my  father's  designs  in 
my  favor,  and  almost  provoked  him  to  disown 
me.  Before  any  thing  suitable  offered  again,  I 
was  impressed,  (owing  entirely  to  my  own 
thoughtless  conduct,  which  was  all  of  a  piece,) 
and  put  on  board  a  tender :  it  was  at  a  critical 
iuncture,  when  the  French  fleets  were  hovering 
upon  our  coast,  so  that  my  father  was  unable  to 
procure  my  release.  In  a  few  days  I  was  sent  on 
board  the  Harwich  man-of-war,  at  the  Nore  :  I 
entered  here  upon  quite  a  new  scene  of  life,  and 
endured  much  hardship  for  about  a  month.  My 
father  was  then  willing  that  I  should  remain  in 
the  navy,  as  a  war  was  daily  expected,  and  pro- 
cured me  a  recommendation  to  the  captain,  who 
took  me  upon  the  quarter-deck  as  a  midshipman. 
I  had  now  an  easy  life  as  to  externals,  and  might 
have  gained  respect ;  but  my  mind  was  unsettled, 
and  my  behavior  very  indifferent.  I  here  met 
with  companions  who  completed  the  ruin  of  my 
principles  j  and  though  I  affected  to  talk  of  vir- 
tue, and  was  not  so  outwardly  abandoned  as 
afterward,  yet  my  delight  and  habitual  practice 
was  wickedness.  My  chief  intimate  was  a  per- 
son of  exceeding  good  natural  talents  and  much 
observation  ;  he  was  the  greatest  master  of  what 
is  called  the  free-thinking  scheme  I  remember  to 
have  met  with,  and  knew  how  to  insinuate  his 
sentiments  in  the  most  plausible  way.   And  his 


IMPRESSED   FOR  A  MAN-OF-WAR. 


35 


zeal  was  equal  to  his  address :  he  could  hardly 
have  labored  more  in  the  cause  if  he  had  expect- 
ed to  gain  heaven  by  it.  Allow  me  to  add,  while 
I  think  of  it,  that  this  man,  whom  I  honored  as 
my  master,  and  whose  practice  I  adopted  so 
eagerly,  perished  in  the  same  way  as  I  expected 
to  have  done.  I  have  been  told  that  he  was  over- 
taken in  a  voyage  from  Lisbon  by  a  violent 
storm  j  the  vessel  and  people  escaped,  but  a 
great  sea  broke  on  board  and  swept  him  into 
eternity.  Thus  the  Lord  spares  or  punishes,  ac- 
cording to  his  sovereign  pleasure !  But  to  re- 
turn :  I  was  fond  of  his  company  ;  and  having 
myself  a  smattering  of  books,  was  eager  enough 
to  show  my  reading.  He  soon  perceived  my 
case,  that  I  had  not  wholly  broken  through  the 
restraints  of  conscience,  and  therefore  did  not 
shock  me  at  first  with  too  broad  intimations  of 
his  design ;  he  rather,  as  I  thought,  spoke  favor- 
ably of  religion ;  but  when  he  had  gained  my 
confidence  he  began  to  speak  plainer  j  and  per- 
ceiving my  ignorant  attachment  to  the  character- 
istics, he  joined  issue  with  me  upon  that  book, 
and  convinced  me  that  I  had  never  understood 
it.  In  a  word,  he  so  plied  me  with  objections 
and  arguments  that  my  depraved  heart  was  soon 
gained,  and  I  entered  into  his  plan  with  all  my 
spirit.  Thus,  like  an  unwary  sailor,  who  quits 
his  port  just  before  a  rising  storm,  I  renounced 


36 


LIKE  OF  REV.  JOHN  KEWTOK. 


the  hopes  and  comforts  of  the  Gospel  at  the  very 
time  when  every  other  comfort  was  about  to 
fail  me. 

In  December,  1744,  the  Harwich  was  in  the 
Downs,  bound  to  the  East  Indies.  The  captain 
gave  me  liberty  to  go  on  shore  for  a  day  ;  but 
without  consulting  prudence,  or  regarding  con- 
sequences, I  took  horse,  and  following  the  dic- 
tates of  my  restless  passion,  I  went  to  take  a  last 
leave  of  her  I  loved.  I  had  little  satisfaction  in 
the  interview,  as  I  was  sensible  that  I  was  taking 
pains  to  multiply  my  own  troubles.  The  short 
time  I  could  stay  passed  like  a  dream ;  and  on 
New-Year's  day,  1745,  I  took  my  leave  to  return 
to  the  ship.  The  captain  was  prevailed  on  to  ex- 
cuse my  absence  ;  but  this  rash  step  (especially 
as  it  was  not  the  first  liberty  of  the  kind  I  had 
taken)  highly  displeased  him,  and  lost  me  his 
favor,  which  I  never  recovered. 

At  length  we  sailed  from  Spithead  with  a  very 
large  fleet.  We  put  into  Torbay  with  a  change 
of  wind  j  but  it  returning  fair  again,  we  sailed 
the  next  day.  Several  of  our  fleet  were  lost  in 
attempting  to  leave  that  place ;  but  the  following 
night  the  whole  fleet  was  greatly  endangered 
upon  the  coast  of  Cornwall  by  a  storm  from  the 
southward.  The  darkness  of  the  night,  and  the 
number  of  the  vessels,  occasioned  much  confu- 
sion and   damage.    Our  ship,   though  several 


PUNISHED  FOR  DESERTION. 


37 


times  in  imminent  danger  of  being  run  down  by 
other  vessels,  escaped  unhurt ;  but  many  suffered 
much,  particularly  the  Admiral.  This  occasioned 
our  putting  back  to  Plymouth. 

While  we  lay  at  Plymouth  I  heard  that  my 
father,  who  had  interest  in  some  of  the  ships 
lately  lost,  was  come  down  to  Torbay.   He  had 
a  connection  at  that  time  with  the  African  Com- 
pany. I  thought  if  I  could  get  to  him,  he  might 
easily  introduce  me  into  that  service,  which 
would  be  better  than  pursuing  a  long,  uncertain 
voyage  to  the  East  Indies.  It  was  a  maxim  with 
me  in  those  unhappy  days,  never  to  deliberate : 
i  the  thought  hardly  occurred  to  me  but  I  was  re- 
solved to  leave  the  ship  at  all  events ;  I  did  so, 
:  and  in  the  wrongest  manner  possible.  I  was  sent 
i  one  day  in  the  boat  to  take  care  that  none  of  the 
people  deserted  5  but  I  betrayed  my  trust,  and 
|  went  off  myself.  I  knew  not  what  road  to  take, 
and  durst  not  ask  for  fear  of  being  suspected ; 
I  yet  having  some  general  idea  of  the  country,  I 
i  guessed  right ;  and  when  I  had  travelled  some 
j  miles,  I  found,  upon  inquiry,  that  I  was  on  the 
I  road  to  Dartmouth.  All  went  smoothly  that  day, 
f  and  part  of  the  next ;  I  walked  apace,  and  ex- 
i  pected  to  have  been  with  my  father  in  about  two 
•j  hours,  when  I  was  met  by  a  small  party  of  sol- 
i  diers.   I  could  not  avoid  or  deceive  them.  They 
i  brought  me  back  to  Plymouth  ;  I  walked  through 

Newton.  4, 


38 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


the  streets  guarded  like  a  felon.  My  heart  was 
full  of  indignation,  shame  and  fear.  I  was  con- 
fined two  days  in  the  guard-house,  then  sent  on 
board  my  ship,  kept  a  while  in  irons,  then  pub- 
licly stripped  and  whipped;  after  which  I  was 
degraded  from  my  office,  and  all  my  former  com- 
panions forbidden  to  show  me  the  least  favor,  or 
even  to  speak  to  me.  As  midshipman,  I  had  been 
entitled  to  some  command,  which  (being  suffi- 
ciently haughty  and  vain)  I  had  not  been  back 
ward  to  exert.  I  was  now,  in  my  turn,  brought 
down  to  a  level  with  the  lowest,  and  exposed  to 
the  insults  of  all. 

And,  as  my  present  situation  was  uncomfort- 
able, my  future  prospects  were  still  worse ;  the 
evils  I  suffered  were  likely  to  grow  heavier  every 
day.  While  my  catastrophe  was  recent,  the  offi- 
cers and  my  quondam  brethren  were  something 
disposed  to  screen  me  from  ill  -usage  j  but  dur- 
ing the  little  time  I  remained  with  them  after- 
ward, I  found  them  cool  very  fast  in  their  endea- 
vors to  protect  me.  Indeed,  they  could  not  avoid 
it  without  running  a  great  risk  of  sharing  with 
me ;  for  the  captain,  though  in  general  a  humane 
man,  who  behaved  very  well  to  the  ship's  com- 
pany, was  almost  implacable  in  his  resentment 
when  he  had  been  greatly  offended,  and  took 
several  occasions  to  show  himself  so  to  me  ;  and 
the  voyage  was  expected  to  be  (as  it  proved) 


PUNISHED  FOR  DESERTION. 


39 


for  five  years.  Yet  I  think  nothing  I  either  felt 
or  feared  distressed  me  so  much  as  to  see  myself 
thus  forcibly  torn  away  from  the  object  of  my 
affections  under  a  great  improbability  of  seeing 
her  again,  and  a  much  greater  of  returning  in 
such  a  manner  as  would  give  me  hopes  of  seeing 
her  mine.  Thus  I  was  as  miserable  on  all  hands 
as  could  well  be  imagined.  My  breast  was  filled 
Avith  the  most  excruciating  passions,  eager  desire, 
bitter  rage  and  black  despair.  Every  hour  ex- 
posed me  to  some  new  insult  and  hardship,  with 
no  hope  of  relief  or  mitigation  ;  no  friend  to  take 
my  part,  or  to  listen  to  my  complaint.  Whether 
I  looked  inward  or  outward,  I  could  perceive 
nothing  but  darkness  and  misery.  I  think  no 
case,  except  that  of  a  conscience  wounded  by 
the  wrath  of  God,  could  be  more  dreadful  than 
mine  :  I  cannot  express  with  what  wishfulness 
and  regret  I  cast  my  last  looks  upon  the  English 
shore :  I  kept  my  eyes  fixed  upon  it  till,  the 
ship's  distance  increasing,  it  insensibly  disap- 
peared ;  and  when  I  could  see  it  no  longer  I  was 
tempted  to  throw  myself  into  the  sea,  which  (ac- 
cording to  the  wicked  system  I  had  adopted) 
would  put  a  period  to  all  my  sorrows  at  once. 
But  the  secret  hand  of  God  restrained  me. 
Help  me  to  praise  him,  dear  sir,  for  his  won- 
derful goodness  to  the  most  unworthy  of  all  his 
creatures. 


40 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


LETTER  IV. 


Voyages  to  Madeira  and  Africa. 

Though  I  desired  your  instructions  as  to  the 
manner  and  extent  of  these  memoirs,  I  began  to 
write  before  I  received  them,  and  had  almost 
finished  the  preceding  sheet  when  your  favor  of 
the  11th  came  to  hand.  I  shall  find  another  oc- 
casion to  acknowledge  my  sense  of  your  kind 
expressions  of  friendship,  which  I  pray  the  Lord 
I  may  never  give  you  cause  to  repent  of  or  with- 
draw; at  present  I  shall  confine  myself  to  what 
more  particularly  relates  to  the  task  assigned 
me.  I  shall  obey  you,  sir,  in  taking  notice  of  the 
little  incidents  you  recall  to  my  memory,  and  of 
others  of  the  like  nature,  which,  without  your 
direction,  I  should  have  thought  too  trivial,  and 
too  much  my  own  to  deserve  mentioning.  When 
I  began  the  eight  letters  I  intended  to  say  no 
more  of  myself  than  might  be  necessary  to  illus- 
trate the  wonders  of  Divine  providence  and  grace 
in  the  leading  turns  of  my  life ;  but  I  account 
your  judgment  a  sufficient  warrant  for  enlarging 
my  plan. 

Amongst  other  things,  you  desired  a  more  ex- 


VOYAGE  TO  MADEIRA. 


41 


plicit  account  of  the  state  and  progress  of  my 
courtship,  as  it  is  usually  phrased.  This  was 
the  point  in  which  I  thought  it  especially  became 
me  to  be  very  brief ;  but  I  submit  to  you ;  and 
this  seems  a  proper  place  to  resume  it,  by  telling 
you  how  it  stood  at  the  time  of  my  leaving  Eng- 
land. When  my  inclinations  first  discovered 
themselves,  both  parties  were  so  young  that  no 
one  but  myself  considered  it  in  a  serious  view. 
It  served  for  tea-table  talk  amongst  our  friends ; 
and  nothing  farther  was  expected  from  it.  But 
afterward,  when  my  passion  seemed  to  have  abid- 
ing effects,  so  that  in  an  interval  of  two  years  it 
was  not  at  all  abated ;  and  especially  as  it  occa- 
sioned me  to  act  without  any  regard  to  prudence 
or  interest,  or  my  father's  designs  ;  and  as  there 
was  a  coolness  between  him  and  the  family,  her 
parents  began  to  consider  it  as  a  matter  of  con- 
sequence ;  and  when  I  took  my  last  leave  of  them, 
her  mother,  at  the  same  time  that  she  expressed 
the  most  tender  affection  for  me,  as  if  I  had  been 
her  own  child,  told  me,  that,  though  she  had  no 
objections  to  make,  upon  a  supposition  that  at  a 
maturer  age  there  should  be  a  probability  of  our 
engaging  upon  a  prudent  prospect,  yet  as  things 
then  stood,  she  thought  herself  obliged  to  inter- 
fere ;  and  therefore  desired  I  would  no  more 
think  of  returning  to  their  house,  unless  her 
daughter  was  from  home,  till  such  time  as  I  could 


42 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


either  prevail  with  myself  entirely  to  give  up  my 
pretensions,  or  could  assure  her  that  I  had  my 
father's  express  consent  to  continue  them.  Much 

depended  on  Mrs.  N  's  part  in  this  affair  ;  it 

was  something  difficult ;  but  though  she  was 
young,  gay,  and  quite  unpractised  in  such  mat- 
ters, she  was  directed  to  a  happy  medium.  A 
positive  encouragement,  or  an  absolute  refusal, 
would  have  been  attended  with  equal,  though  dif- 
ferent disadvantages.  But  without  much  study- 
ing about  it,  I  found  her  always  upon  her  guard : 
she  had  penetration  to  see  her  absolute  power 
over  me,  and  prudence  to  make  a  proper  use  of 
it ;  she  would  neither  understand  my  hints,  nor 
give  me  room  to  come  to  a  direct  explanation. 
She  has  said  since,  that,  from  the  first  discovery 
of  my  regard,  and  long  before  the  thought  was 
agreeable  to  her,  she  had  often  an  unaccountable 
impression  upon  her  mind,  that  sooner  or  later 
she  should  be  mine.  Upon  these  terms  we  parted. 

I  now  return  to  my  voyage.  During  our  pas- 
sage to  Madeira  I  was  a  prey  to  the  most  gloo- 
my thoughts.  Though  I  had  well  deserved  all 
I  met  with,  and  the  captain  might  have  been 
justified  if  he  had  carried  his  resentment  still  far- 
ther ;  yet  my  pride  at  that  time  suggested  that  I 
had  been  grossly  injured:  and  this  so  far  wrought 
upon  my  wicked  heart,  that  I  actually  formed 
designs  against  his  life  j  and  this  was  one  reaso 


VOYAGE  TO  MADEIRA. 


43 


that  made  me  willing  to  prolong  my  own.  I  was 
sometimes  divided  between  the  two,  not  thinking 
it  practicable  to  effect  both.  The  Lord  had  now, 
to  appearance,  given  me  up  to  judicial  hardness ; 
I  was  capable  of  any  thing.  I  had  not  the  least 
fear  of  God  before  my  eyes,  nor  (so  far  as  I  re- 
member) the  least  sensibility  of  conscience.  I 
was  possessed  of  so  strong  a  spirit  of  delusion, 
that  I  believed  my  own  lie,  and  was  firmly  per- 
suaded that  after  death  I  should  cease  to  be.  Yet 
the  Lord  preserved  me !  Some  intervals  of  sober 
reflection  would  at  times  take  place :  when  I 
have  chosen  death  rather  than  life,  a  ray  of  hope 
would  come  in  (though  there  was  little  probabi- 
lity for  such  a  hope)  that  I  should  yet  see  better 
days ;  that  I  might  again  return  to  England,  and 
have  my  wishes  crowned,  if  I  did  not  wilfully 
throw  myself  away.  In  a  word,  my  love  to  Mrs. 

N  was  now  the  only  restraint  I  had  left. 

Though  I  neither  feared  God  nor  regarded  men, 
I  could  not  bear  that  she  should  think  meanly  of 
me  when  I  was  dead.  As,  in  the  outward  con- 
cerns of  life,  the  weakest  means  are  often  em- 
ployed by  Divine  Providence  to  produce  great 
effects,  beyond  their  common  influence,  (as  when 
a  disease,  for  instance,  has  been  removed  by  a 
fright,)  so  I  found  it  then ;  this  single  thought, 
which  had  not  restrained  me' from  a  thousand 
smaller  evils,  proved  my  only  and  effectual  bar 


44?  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

rier  against  the  greatest  and  most  fatal  tempta 
tions.  How  long  I  could  have  supported  this 
conflict,  or  what,  humanly  speaking,  would  have 
been  the  consequences  of  my  continuing  in  that 
situation,  I  cannot  say ;  but  the  Lord,  whom  I 
little  thought  of,  knew  my  danger,  and  was  pro- 
viding for  my  deliverance. 

Two  things  I  had  determined  when  at  Ply- 
mouth ;  that  I  would  not  go  to  India,  and  that  I 
would  go  to  Guinea ;  and  such,  indeed,  was  the 
Lord's  will  concerning  me  ;  but  they  were  to  be 
accomplished  in  his  way,  and  not  in  my  own. 
We  had  been  now  at  Madeira  some  time:  the 
business  of  the  fleet  was  completed,  and  we  were 
to  sail  the  following  day.  On  that  memorable 
morning  I  was  late  in  bed,  and  had  slept  longer, 
but  that  one  of  the  midshipmen  (an  old  compa- 
nion) came  down,  and,  between  jest  and  earnest, 
bade  me  rise ;  and  as  I  did  not  immediately  com 
ply,  he  cut  down  the  hammock,  or  bed,  in  which 
I  lay ;  which  forced  me  to  dress  myself.  I  was 
very  angry,  but  durst  not  resent  it.  I  was  little 
aware  how  much  his  caprice  affected  me ;  and 
that  this  person,  who  had  no  design  in  what  he 
did,  was  the  messenger  of  God's  providence.  I 
said  little,  but  went  upon  deck,  where  I  that  mo- 
ment saw  a  man  putting  his  clothes  into  a  boat, 
who  told  me  he  was  going  to  leave  us.  Upon 
inquiring,  I  was  informed  that  two  men,  from  a 


VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


45 


Guinea  ship  which  lay  near  us,  had  entered  on 
board  the  Harwich,  and  that  the  commodore  (Sir 
George  Pocock)  had  ordered  the  captain  to  send 
two  others  in  their  room.  My  heart  instantly 
burned  like  fire.  I  begged  the  boat  might  be  de- 
tained a  few  minutes :  I  ran  to  the  lieutenants, 
and  entreated  them  to  intercede  with  the  captain 
that  I  might  be  dismissed.  Upon  this  occasion, 
though  I  had  been  formerly  upon  ill  terms  with 
these  officers,  and  had  disobliged  them  all  in 
their  turns,  they  pitied  my  case,  and  appeared 
ready  to  serve  me.  The  captain,  who,  when  we 
were  at  Plymouth,  had  refused  to  exchange  me, 
though  at  the  request  of  Admiral  Medly,  was  now 
easily  prevailed  on.  I  believe,  in  little  more  than 
half  an  hour  from  my  being  asleep  in  my  bed  I 
saw  myself  discharged,  and  safe  on  board  another 
ship.  This  was  one  of  the  many  critical  turns  of 
my  life,  in  which  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  dis- 
play his  providence  and  care,  by  causing  many 
unexpected  circumstances  to  concur  in  almost 
an  instant  of  time.  These  sudden  opportunities 
were  several  times  repeated;  each  of  them 
brought  me  into  an  entire  new  scene  of  action, 
and  they  were  usually  delayed  to  almost  the  last 
moment  in  which  they  could  have  taken  place. 

The  ship  I  went  on  board  was  bound  to  Sierra 
Leone,  and  the  adjacent  parts  of  what  is  called 
the  Windward  Coast  of  Africa,  The  commander, 


46 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


I  found,  was  acquainted  with  my  father :  he  re- 
ceived me  very  kindly,  and  made  fair  professions 
of  assistance,  and  I  believe  would  have  been  my 
friend ;  but  without  making  the  least  advantage 
of  former  mistakes  and  troubles,  I  pursued  the 
same  course ;  nay,  if  possible,  I  acted  much 
worse.  On  board  the  Harwich,  though  my  prin- 
ciples were  totally  corrupted,  yet,  as  upon  my 
first  going  there  I  was  in  some  degree  staid 
and  serious,  the  remembrance  of  this  made  me 
ashamed  of  breaking  out  in  that  notorious  man- 
ner I  could  otherwise  have  indulged.  But  now, 
entering  amongst  strangers,  I  could  appear  with- 
out disguise ;  and  I  well  remember,  that,  while  I 
was  passing  from  the  one  ship  to  the  other,  this 
was  one  reason  why  I  rejoiced  in  the  exchange, 
and  one  reflection  I  made  upon  the  occasion, 
namely,  M  that  I  now  might  be  as  abandoned  as  I 
pleased,  without  any  control;"  and  from  this  time 

1  was  exceedingly  vile  indeed,  little,  if  any  thing, 
short  of  that  animated  description  of  an  almost 
irrecoverable  state,  which  we  have  in  2  Peter, 

2  :  14.  I  not  only  sinned  with  a  high  hand  my 
self,  but  made  it  my  study  to  tempt  and  seduce 
others  upon  every  occasion ;  nay,  I  eagerly  sough, 
occasion,  sometimes  to  my  own  hazard  and  hurt 
One  natural  consequence  of  this  carriage  was,  a 
loss  of  the  favor  of  my  new  captain ;  not  that  he 
was  at  all  religious,  or  disliked  my  wickedness 


VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


47 


any  further  than  it  affected  his  interest,  but  I  be- 
came careless  and  disobedient :  I  did  not  please 
him,  because  I  did  not  intend  it ;  and  as  he  was 
a  man  of  an  odd  temper  likewise,  we  the  more 
easily  disagreed.  Besides,  I  had  a  little  of  that 
unlucky  wit,  which  can  do  little  more  than  mul- 
tiply troubles  and  enemies  to  its  possessor ;  and, 
upon  some  imagined  affront  I  made  a  song,  in 
which  I  ridiculed  his  ship,  his  designs,  and  his 
person,  and  soon  taught  it  to  the  whole  shiprs 
company.  Such  was  the  ungrateful  return  I  made 
for  his  offers  of  friendship  and  protection.  I  had 
mentioned  no  names  ;  but  the  allusion  was  plain ; 
and  he  was  no  stranger  either  to  the  intention  or 
the  author.  I  shall  say  no  more  of  this  part  of 
my  story ;  let  it  be  buried  in  eternal  silence.  But 
let  me  not  be  silent  from  the  praise  of  that  grace 
which  could  pardon,  that  blood  which  could  ex- 
piate such  sins  as  mine.  Yea,  "  the  Ethiopian 
may  change  his  skin,  and  the  leopard  his  spots," 
since  I,  who  was  the  willing  slave  of  every  evil, 
possessed  with  a  legion  of  unclean  spirits,  have 
been  spared,  and  saved,  and  changed,  to  stand  as 
a  monument  of  his  almighty  power  for  ever. 

Thus  I  went  on  for  about  six  months,  by  which 
time  the  ship  was  preparing  to  leave  the  coast. 
A  few  days  before  she  sailed  the  captain  died.  I 
was  not  upon  much  better  terms  with  his  mate, 
who  now  succeeded  to  the  command,  and  had, 


48 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


upon  some  occasion,  treated  me  ill.  I  made  no 
doubt  but  if  I  went  with  him  to  the  West  Indies 
he  would  put  me  on  board  a  man-of-war  ;  and  this, 
from  what  I  had  known  already,  was  more  dread- 
ful to  me  than  death.  To  avoid  it,  I  determined 
to  remain  in  Africa ;  and  amused  myself  with 
many  golden  dreams,  that  here  I  should  find  an 
opportunity  of  improving  my  fortune. 

There  are  still  upon  that  part  of  the  coast  a 
few  white  men  settled,  (and  there  were  many 
more  at  the  time  I  was  first  there,)  whose  busi- 
ness it  was  to  purchase  slaves,  &c.  in  the  rivers 
and  country  adjacent,  and  sell  them  to  the  ships 
at  an  advanced  price.  One  of  these,  who  at  first 
landed,  like  myself,  in  indigent  circumstances, 
had  acquired  considerable  wealth  :  he  had  lately 
been  in  England,  and  was  returning  in  the  vessel 
I  was  in,  of  which  he  owned  a  quarter  part.  His 
example  impressed  me  with  hopes  of  the  same 
success ;  and,  upon  condition  of  entering  into  his 
service,  I  obtained  my  discharge.  I  had  not  the 
precaution  to  make  any  terms,  but  trusted  to  his 
generosity.  I  received  no  compensation  for  my 
time  on  board  the  ship  but  a  bill  upon  the  own- 
ers in  England,  which  was  never  paid,  for  they 
failed  before  my  return.  The  day  the  vessel  sail- 
ed I  landed  upon  the  island  of  Benanoes,  with  lit- 
tle more  than  the  clothes  upon  my  back,  as  if  1 
had  escaped  shipwreck. 


SUFFERINGS  IN  AFRICA. 


49 


LETTER  V. 

Sickness  and  Sufferings  in  Africa. 

There  seems  an  important  instruction,  and  of 
frequent  use,  in  these  words  of  our  dear  Lord, 
"  Mine  hour  is  not  yet  come."  The  two  follow- 
ing years,  of  which  I  am  now  to  give  some  ac- 
count, will  seem  as  an  absolute  blank  in  a  very 
short  life :  but  as  the  Lord's  hour  of  grace  was 
not  yet  come,  I  was  to  have  still  deeper  expe- 
rience of  the  dreadful  state  of  the  heart  of  man 
when  left  to  itself.  I  have  seen  frequent  cause 
since  to  admire  the  mercy  of  the  Lord,  in  banish- 
ing me  to  those  distant  parts,  and  almost  exclud- 
ing me  from  human  society,  at  a  time  when  I  was 
big  with  mischief,  and,  like  one  infected  with  a 
pestilence,  was  capable  of  spreading  a  taint 
wherever  I  went.  Had  my  affairs  taken  a  different 
turn,  had  I  succeeded  in  my  designs,  and  remain- 
ed in  England,  my  sad  story  would  probably  have 
been  worse.  Worse  in  myself,  indeed,  I  could 
hardly  have  been  ;  but  my  wickedness  would 
have  had  a  greater  scope ;  I  might  have  been 
very  hurtful  toothers,  and  multiplied  irreparable 
evils.  But  the  Lord  wisely  placed  me  where  I 
could  do  little  harm.  The  few  I  had  to  converse 

Newton.  5 


50 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


with  were  too  much  like  myself,  and  I  was  soon 
brought  into  such  abject  circumstances  that  I  was 
too  low  to  have  any  influence.  I  was  rather  shun- 
ned and  despised  than  imitated  ;  there  being  few, 
even  of  the  negroes  themselves,  (during  the  first 
year  of  my  residence  among  them,)  but  thought 
themselves  too  good  to  speak  to  me.  I  was  as 
yet  an  "  outcast  lying  in  my  blood,"  Ezek.  16  :  6, 
and,  to  all  appearance,  exposed  to  perish.  But  the 
Lord  beheld  me  with  mercy.  He  did  not  strike 
me  to  hell,  as  I  justly  deserved ;  "  he  passed  by 
me  when  I  was  in  my  blood,  and  said  unto  me, 
Live."  But  the  appointed  time  for  the  manifesta- 
tion of  his  love,  to  cover  all  my  iniquities  with  the 
robe  of  his  righteousness,  and  to  admit  me  to  the 
privileges  of  his  children,  was  not  till  long  after- 
ward ;  yet  even  now  he  bade  me  live  ;  and  I  can 
only  ascribe  it  to  his  secret  upholding  power,  that 
what  I  suffered  in  a  part  of  this  interval  did  not 
bereave  me  either  of  my  life  or  senses :  yet,  as 
by  these  sufferings  the  force  of  my  evil  example 
and  inclination  was  lessened,  I  have  reason  to 
account  them  amongst  my  mercies. 

It  may  not,  perhaps,  be  amiss  to  digress  for  a 
few  lines,  and  give  you  a  very  brief  sketch  of  the 
geography  of  the  circuit  I  was  now  confined  to, 
especially  as  I  may  have  frequent^casion  to  re- 
fer to  places  I  shall  now  mention ;  for  my  trade 
afterward,  when  the  Lord  gave  me  to  see  better 


SUFFERINGS  IN  AFRICA. 


51 


days,  was  chiefly  to  the  same  places,  and  with  the 
same  persons,  where  and  by  whom  I  had  been 
considered  as  upon  a  level  with  their  meanest 
slaves.  From  Cape  de  Verd,  the  most  western 
point  of  Africa,  to  Cape  Mount,  the  whole  coast 
is  full  of  rivers ;  the  principal  are,  Gambia,  Rio 
Grande,  Sierra  Leone,  and  Sherbro.  Of  the  form- 
er, as  it  is  well  known,  and  I  was  never  there,  I 
need  say  nothing.  The  Rio  Grande  (like  the  Nile) 
divides  into  many  branches  near  the  sea.  On  the 
most  northerly,  called  Cackeo,  the  Portuguese 
have  a  settlement.  The  most  southern  branch, 
known  by  the  name  of  Rio  Nuna,  is,  or  then  was, 
I  the  usual  'boundary  of  the  white  men's  trade 
'  northward.  Sierra  Leone  is  a  mountainous  penin- 
sula, uninhabited,  and,  I  believe,  inaccessible,  up- 
t  on  account  of  the  thick  woods,  excepting  those 
parts  which  lie  near  the  water.  The  river  is 
large  and  navigable.  From  hence,  about  twelve 
leagues  to  the  south-east,  are  three  contiguous 
i  islands,  called  the  Benanoes,  about  twenty  miles 
I  in  circuit ;  this  was  about  the  centre  of  the  white 
men's  residence.  Seven  leagues  farther,  the  same 
way,  lie  the  Plantanes,  three  small  islands,  two 
miles  distant  from  the  continent  at  the  point, 
which  forms  one  side  of  the  Sherbro.  This  river 
is  more  properly  a  sound,  running  within  a  long 
island,  and  receiving  the  confluence  of  several 
large  rivers,  "  rivers  unknown  to  song"  but  far 


52  LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

more  deeply  engraven  in  my  remembrance  than 
the  Po  or  Tyber.  The  southernmost  of  these  has 
a  very  peculiar  course,  almost  parallel  to  the 
coast ;  so  that  in  tracing  it  a  great  many  leagues 
upward,  it  will  seldom  lead  one  above  three  miles, 
and  sometimes  not  more  than  half  a  mile  from 
the  sea-shore.  Indeed,  I  know  not  but  that  all 
these  rivers  may  have  communications  with  each 
other,  and  with  the  sea  in  many  places,  which  I 
have  not  remarked.  If  you  cast  your  eyes  upon 
a  large  map  of  Africa  while  you  are  reading  this, 
you  will  have  a  general  idea  of  the  country  I  was 
in :  for  though  the  maps  are  very  incorrect,  most 
of  the  places  I  have  mentioned  are  inserted,  and 
in  the  same  order  as  I  have  named  them. 

My  new  master  had  formerly  resided  near 
Cape  Mount,  but  now  he  settled  at  the  Plantanes, 
upon  the  largest  of  the  three  islands.  It  is  a  low 
sandy  island,  about  two  miles  in  circumference, 
and  almost  covered  with  palm-trees.  We  imme- 
diately began  to  build  a  house,  and  to  enter  upon 
trade.  I  had  now  some  desire  to  retrieve  my 
lost  time,  and  to  exert  diligence  in  what  was  be- 
fore me  ;  and  he  was  a  man  with  whom  I  might 
have  lived  tolerably  well,  if  he  had  not  been  soon 
influenced  against  me:  but  he  was  much  under 
the  direction  of  a  black  woman  who  lived  with 
him  as  a  wife.  She  was  a  person  of  some  conse- 
quence in  her  own  country,  and  he  owed  his  first 


SUFFERINGS  IN  AFRICA.  53- 

rise  to  her  interest.  This  woman  (I  know  not  for 
what  reason)  was  strangely  prejudiced  against 
me  from  the  first ;  and  what  made  it  still  worse 
forme,  was  a  severe  fit  of  illness,  which  attacked 
me  very  soon,  before  I  had  opportunity  to  show 
what  I  could  or  would  do  in  his  service.  I  was 
sick  when  he  sailed  in  a  shallop  to  Rio  Nuna,  and 
he  left  me  in  her  hands.  At  first  I  was  taken 
some  care  of ;  but  a^  I  did  not  recover  very  soon, 
she  grew  weary,  and  entirely  neglected  me.  I 
had  sometimes  not  a  little  difficulty  to  procure  a 
draught  of  cold  water  when  burning  with  a  fever. 
My  bed  was  a  mat  spread  upon  a  board  or  chest, 
and  a  log  of  wood  my  pillow.  When  my  fever 
left  me,  and  appetite  returned,  I  would  gladly 
have  eaten,  but  there  was  no  one  gave  unto 
me.  She  lived  in  plenty  herself,  but  hardly  a) 
lowed  me  sufficient  to  sustain  life,  except  now 
and  then,  when  in  the  highest  good  humor,  she 
would  send  me  victuals  in  her  own  plate  after 
she  had  dined  ;  and  this  (so  greatly  was  my  pride 
humbled)  I  received  with  thanks  and  eagerness, 
as  the  most  needy  beggar  does  an  alms.  Once, 
I  well  remember,  I  was  called  to  receive  this 
bounty  from  her  own  hand  ;  but  being  exceeding 
weak  and  feeble,  I  dropped  the  plate.  Those  who 
live  in  plenty  can  hardly  conceive  how  this  loss 
touched  me  ;  but  she  had  the  cruelty  to  laugh  at 
my  disappointment ;  and,  though  the  table  was 
5* 


54 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


covered  with  dishes,  (for  she  lived  much  in  the 
European  manner,)  she  refused  to  give  me  any 
more.  My  distress  has  been  at  times  so  great 
as  to  compel  me  to  go  by  night  and  pull  up  roots 
in  the  plantation,  (though  at  the  risk  of  being 
punished  as  a  thief,)  which  I  have  eaten  raw  upon 
the  spot  for  fear  of  discovery.  The  roots  I  speak 
of  are  very  wholesome  food  when  boiled  or  roast- 
ed ;  but  as  unfit  to  be  eaten  raw,  in  any  quantity, 
as  a  potatoe.  The  consequence  of  this  diet, 
which,  after  the  first  experiment,  I  always  ex- 
pected, and  seldom  missed,  was  the  same  as  if  I 
had  taken  tartar  emetic;  so  that  I  have  often  re- 
turned as  empty  as  I  went ;  yet  necessity  urged 
me  to  repeat  the  trial  several  times.  I  have 
sometimes  been  relieved  by  strangers  j  nay,  even 
by  the  slaves  in  the  chain,  who  have  secretly 
brought  me  victuals  (for  they  durst  not  be  seen 
to  do  it)  from  their  own  slender  pittance.  Next 
to  pressing  want,  nothing  sits  harder  upon  the 
mind  than  scorn  and  contempt;  and  of  this,  like- 
wise, I  had  an  abundant  measure.  When  I  was 
very  slowly  recovering,  this  woman  would  some- 
times pay  me  a  visit,  not  to  pity  or  relieve,  but 
to  insult  me.  She  would  call  me  worthless  and 
indolent,  and  compel  me  to  walk ;  which,  when  J 
could  hardly  do,  she  would  set  her  attendants 
to  mimic  my  motion,  to  clap  their  hands,  laugh, 
and  throw  limes  at  me  ;  or,  if  they  chose,  to 


SUFFERINGS  IN  AFRICA. 


55 


throw  stones ;  (as  I  think  was  the  case  once  or 
twice  ;)  they  were  not  rebuked  ;  but,  in  general, 
though  all  who  depended  on  her  favor  must  join 
in  her  treatment,  yet,  when  she  was  out  of  sight 
I  was  rather  pitied  than  scorned  by  the  meanest 
of  her  slaves.  At  length  my  master  returned 
from  his  voyage.  I  complained  of  ill-usage  ;  but 
he  could  not  believe  me ;  and  as  I  did  it  in  her 
hearing,  I  fared  no  better  for  it.  But  in  his  second 
voyage  he  took  me  with  him.  We  did  pretty 
well  for  awhile,  till  a  brother-trader  he  met  in 
the  river  persuaded  him  that  I  was  unfaithful, 
and  stole  his  goods  in  the  night,  or  when  he  was 
on  shore.  This  was  almost  the  only  vice  I  could 
not  be  justly  charged  with :  the  only  remains  of 
a  good  education  I  could  boast  of  was  what  is 
commonly  called  honesty  ;  and,  as  far  as  he  had 
entrusted  me,  I  had  been  always  faithful ;  and 
though  my  great  distress  might,  in  some  mea- 
sure, have  excused  me,  I  never  once  thought  of 
defrauding  him  in  the  smallest  matter.  However, 
the  charge  was  believed,  and  I  was  condemned 
without  evidence.  From  that  time  he  likewise 
used  me  very  hardly:  whenever  he  left  the  ves- 
sel I  was  locked  upon  deck,  with  a  pint  of  rice 
for  my  day's  allowance ;  and  if  he  staid  longer, 
I  had  no  relief  till  his  return.  Indeed,  I  believe  I 
should  have  been  nearly  starved,  but  for  an  op- 
portunity of  catching  n>h  sometimes.  When 


56  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

fowls  were  killed  for  his  own  use  I  seldom  was 
allowed  any  part  but  the  entrails,  to  bait  my 
hooks  with :  and  at  what  we  call  slack  water ,  that 
is,  about  the  changing  of  the  tides,  when  the  cur- 
rent was  still,  I  used  generally  to  fish,  (for  at 
other  times  it  was  not  practicable,)  and  I  very 
often  succeeded.  If  I  saw  a  fish  upon  my  hook, 
my  j°y  was  little  less  than  any  other  person 
may  have  found  in  the  accomplishment  of  the 
scheme  he  had  most  at  heart.  Such  a  fish, 
hastily  broiled,  or  rather  half  burnt,  without 
sauce,  salt  or  bread,  has  afforded  me  a  delicious 
meal.  If  I  caught  none,  I  might  (if  I  could)  sleep 
away  my  hunger  till  the  next  return  of  slack 
water,  and  then  try  again.  Nor  did  I  suffer  less 
from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  and  the  want 
of  clothes.  The  rainy  season  was  now  advanc- 
ing ;  my  whole  suit  was  a  shirt,  a  pair  of  trow- 
sers,  a  cotton  handkerchief  instead  of  a  cap,  and 
a  cotton  cloth  about  two  yards  long,  to  supply 
the  want  of  upper  garments ;  and  thus  accoutred, 
I  have  been  exposed  for  twenty,  thirty,  perhaps 
nearly  forty  hours  together,  in  incessant  rains, 
accompanied  with  strong  gales  of  wind,  without 
the  least  shelter,  when  my  master  was  on  shore 
I  feel,  to  this  day,  some  faint  returns  of  the  vio»- 
lent  pains  I  then  contracted.  The  excessive  cold 
and  wet  I  endured  in  that  voyage,  and  so  soon 
after  I  had  recovered  from  a  long  sickness,  quite 


SUFFERINGS  IN  AFRICA. 


•57 


brokt  my  constitution  and  my  spirits.  The  lat- 
ter were  soon  restored  j  but  the  effects  of  the 
former  still  remain  with  me  as  a  needful  memento 
of  the  service  and  wages  of  sin. 

In  about  two  months  we  returned,  and  then 
the  rest  of  the  time  I  remained  with  him  was 
chiefly  spent  at  the  Plantanes,  under  the  same  re- 
jgimen  as  I  have  already  mentioned.  My  haughty 
heart  was  now  brought  down ;  not  to  a  whole- 
some repentance,  nor  to  the  language  of  the  pro- 
digal :  this  was  far  from  me  ;  but  my  spirits  were 
sunk ;  I  lost  all  resolution,  and  almost  all  reflec- 
tion. I  had  lost  the  fierceness  which  fired  me  on 
board  the  Harwich,  and  which  made  me  capable 
of  the  most  desperate  attempts;  but  I  was  no 
farther  changed  than  a  tiger  tamed  by  hunger ; 
remove  the  occasion,  and  he  will  be  as  wild 
as  ever. 

One  thing,  though  strange,  is  most  true. 
Though  destitute  of  food  and  clothing,  depress- 
ed to  a  degree  beyond  common  wretchedness, 
I  could  sometimes  collect  my  mind  to  mathe 
matical  studies.  I  had  bought  Barrow's  Euclid 
at  Plymouth ;  it  was  the  only  volume  I  brought 
on  shore ;  it  was  always  with  me,  and  I  used  to 
take  it  to  remote  corners  of  the  island,  by  the 
sea-side,  and  drew  my  diagrams  with  a  long 
stick  upon  the  sand.  Thus  I  often  beguiled  my 
sorrows,  and  almost  forgot  my  feelings: and  thus, 


58  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

without  any  other  assistance,  I  made  myself,  in 
a  good  measure,  master  of  the  first  six  books 
of  Euclid. 


LETTER  VI. 

Continuance  in  Africa. — Is  sent  for  by  his  Father,  and  em- 
barks for  England,  1747. 

There  is  much  piety  and  spirit  in  the  grateful 
acknowledgment  of  Jacob,  "  With  my  staff  I 
passed  over  this  Jordan,  and  now  I  am  become 
two  bands."  These  are  words  which  ought  to 
affect  me  with  a  peculiar  emotion.  I  remember 
that  some  of  those  mournful  days  to  which  my 
last  letter  refers,  I  was  busied  in  planting  some 
lime  or  lemon-trees.  The  plants  I  put  in  the 
ground  were  no  longer  than  a  young  goose- 
berry-bush ;  my  master  and  his  mistress  passing 
by  the  place,  stopped  a  while  to  look  at  me  :  at 
last,  "  Who  knows,"  says  he,  "  who  knows,  bu^ 
by  the  time  these  trees  grow  up  and  bear,  yov 
may  go  home  to  England,  obtain  the  command 
of  a  ship,  and  return  to  reap  the  fruits  of  your 
labors  \    We  see  strange  things  sometimes  hap- 


CONTINUANCE  IN  AFRICA. 


59 


pen."  This,  as  he  intended  it,  was  a  cutting  sar- 
casm. I  believe  he  thought  it  full  as  probable 
that  I  should  live  to  be  king  of  Poland.  Yet  it 
proved  a  prediction,  and  they  (one  of  them  at 
least)  lived  to  see  me  return  from  England  in 
the  capacity  he  had  mentioned,  and  pluck  some 
of  the  first  limes  from  those  very  trees.  How 
can  I  proceed  in  my  relation,  till  I  raise  a  mo- 
nument to  the  Divine  goodness,  by  comparing 
the  circumstances  in  which  the  Lord  has  since 
placed  me  with  what  I  was  at  that  time !  Had 
you  seen  me,  sir,  then  go,  pensive  and  solitary, 
in  the  dead  of  night,  to  wash  my  one  shirt  upon 
the  rocks,  and  afterward  put  it  on  wet,  that  it 
might  dry  upon  my  back  while  I  slept ;  had  you 
seen  me  so  poor  a  figure,  that  when  a  ship's 
boat  came  to  the  island  shame  often  constrained 
me  to  hide  myself  in  the  woods  from  the  sight 
of  strangers :  especially  had  you  known  that  my 
conduct,  principles  and  heart  were  still  darker 
than  my  outward  condition ;  how  little  would 
you  have  imagined  that  one  who  so  fully  an- 
swered to  the  description  of  the  apostle,  ft  hate- 
ful, and  hating  one  another,"  was  reserved  to  be 
so  peculiar  an  instance  of  the  providential  care 
and  exuberant  goodness  of  God !  There  was,  at 
that  time,  but  one  earnest  desire  in  my  heart, 
which  was  not  contrary  and  shocking  both  to 
Teligion  and  reason :  that  one  desire,  though  my 


60 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


vile  licentious  life  rendered  me  peculiarly  un- 
worthy of  success,  and  though  a  thousand  diffi- 
culties seemed  to  render  it  impossible,  the  Lord 
was  pleased  to  gratify.  But  this  favor,  though 
great,  and  greatly  prized,  was  a  small  thing, 
compared  to  the  blessings  of  his  grace :  he 
spared  me,  to  give  me  ft  the  knowledge  of  him- 
self in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ."  In  love  to 
my  soul  he  delivered  me  from  the  pit  of  corrup- 
tion, and  cast  all  my  aggravated  sins  behind  his 
back.  He  brought  my  feet  into  the  paths  of 
peace.  This  is,  indeed,  the  chief  article,  but  it 
is  not  the  whole.  When  he  made  me  acceptable 
to  himself  in  the  Beloved,  he  gave  me  favor  in 
the  sight  of  others.  He  raised  me  new  friends, 
protected  and  guided  me  through  a  long  series 
of  dangers,  and  crowned  every  day  with  repeat- 
ed mercies.  To  him  I  owe  it  that  I  am  still  alive, 
and  that  I  am  not  still  living  in  hunger,  and  in 
thirst,  and  in  nakedness,  and  the  want  of  all 
things :  into  that  state  I  brought  myself ;  but 
it  was  He  who  delivered  me.  He  has  given  me 
an  easy  situation  in  life,  some  experimental 
knowledge  of  his  Gospel,  a  large  acquaintance 
among  his  people,  a  friendship  and  correspond- 
ence with  several  of  his  most  honored  servants. 
But  it  is  as  difficult  to  enumerate  my  present  ad- 
vantages, as  it  is  fully  to  describe  the  evils  and 
miseries  of  the  preceding  contrast. 


CONTINUANCE  IN  AFRICA. 


61 


I  know  not  exactly  how  long  things  continued 
with  me  thus,  but  I  believe  nearly  a  twelvemonth. 
In  this  interval  I  wrote  two  or  three  times  to  my 
father :  I  gave  him  an  account  of  my  condition, 
and  desired  his  assistance ;  intimating  at  the 
same  time,  that  I  had  resolved  not  to  return  to 
England  unless  he  was  pleased  to  send  for  me. 
I  have  likewise  by  me  letters  written  to  Mrs. 
N  in  that  dismal  period :  so  that  at  the  low- 
est ebb,  it  seems  I  still  retained  a  hope  of  seeing 
her  again.  My  father  applied  to  his  friend  in 
Liverpool,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  before ;  who 
gave  orders  accordingly,  to  a  captain  of  his  who 
was  then  fitting  out  for  Gambia  and  Sierra  Leone. 

Some  time  within  the  year,  as  I  have  said,  I 
obtained  my  master's  consent  to  live  with  an- 
other trader  who  dwelt  upon  the  same  island. 
Without  his  consent  I  could  not  be  taken;  and 
he  was  unwilling  to  do  it  sooner ;  but  it  was  then 
brought  about.  This  was  an  alteration  much  to 
my  advantage  :  I  was  soon  decently  clothed,  lived 
in  plenty,  was  considered  as  a  companion,  and 
trusted  with  the  care  of  all  his  domestic  effects, 
which  were  to  the  amount  of  some  thousand 
pounds.  This  man  had  several  factories  and 
white  servants  in  different  places ;  particularly 
one  in  Kittam,  the  river  I  spoke  of,  which  runs 
so  nearly  along  the  sea-cost.  I  was  soon  ap- 
pointed to  go  there,  where  I  had  a  share  in  the 

Newton.  g 


62 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


management  of  business  jointly  with  another  of 
his  servants.  We  lived  as  we  pleased,  business 
flourished,  and  our  employer  was  satisfied.  Here 
I  began  to  be  wretch  enough  to  think  myself 
happy.  There  is  a  significant  phrase  frequently 
used  in  those  parts,  That  such  a  white  man  has 
grown  black.  It  does  not  intend  an  alteration  of 
complexion,  but  disposition.  I  have  known  se- 
veral who,  settling  in  Africa  after  the  age  of 
thirty  or  forty,  have,  at  that  time  of  life,  been 
gradually  assimilated  to  the  tempers,  customs 
and  ceremonies  of  the  natives,  so  far  as  to  prefer 
that  country  to  England :  they  have  even  become 
dupes  to  all  the  pretended  charms,  necromancies, 
amulets  and  divinations  of  the  blinded  negroes, 
and  put  more  trust  in  such  things  than  the  wiser 
sort  among  the  natives.  A  part  of  this  spirit  of 
infatuation  was  growing  upon  me  ;  (in  time,  per- 
haps, I  might  have  yielded  to  the  whole ;)  I  en- 
tered into  closer  engagements  with  the  inhabit- 
ants ;  and  should  have  lived  and  died  a  wretch 
amongst  them,  if  the  Lord  had  not  watched  over 
me  for  good.  Not  that  I  had  lost  those  ideas 
which  chiefly  engaged  my  heart  to  England  ;  but 
despair  of  seeing  them  accomplished  made  me 
willing  to  remain  where  I  was.  I  thought  I 
could  more  easily  bear  the  disappointment  in 
this  situation  than  nearer  home.  But  as  soon  as 
I  had  fixed  my  connections  and  plans  with  these 


CONTINUANC     IN  AFRICA. 


63 


views,  the  Lord  providentially  interposed  to  break 
them  in  pieces,  and  to  save  me  from  ruin  in  spite 
of  myself. 

In  the  meantime  the  ship  that  had  orders  to 
bring  me  home  arrived  at  Sierra  Leone.  The 
captain  made  inquiry  for  me  there,  and  at  the 
Benanoes;  but  understanding  that  I  was  at  a 
great  distance  in  the  country,  he  thought  no  more 
about  me.  Without  doubt,  the  hand  of  God  di- 
rected my  being  placed  at  Kittam  just  at  this 
time ;  for,  as  the  ship  came  no  nearer  than  the 
Benanoes,  and  staid  but  a  few  days,  if  I  had  been 
at  the  Plantanes  I  could  not  perhaps  have  heard 
of  her  till  she  had  sailed.  The  same  must  have 
certainly  been  the  event  had  I  been  sent  to  any 
other  factory,  of  which  my  new  master  had  seve- 
ral upon  different  rivers.  But  though  the  place  I 
was  at  was  a  long  way  up  a  river,  much  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  distance  from  the  Plantanes, 
yet,  by  the  peculiar  situation  which  I  have  al- 
ready noticed,  \  was  still  within  a  mile  of  the  sea- 
coast.  To  make  the  interposition  more  remark- 
able, I  was  at  that  very  juncture  going  in  quest 
of  trade  to  a  place  at  some  distance  directly  from 
the  sea ;  and  should  have  set  out  a  day  or  two 
before,  but  that  we  waited  for  a  few  articles  from 
the  next  ship  that  offered,  to  complete  the  assort- 
ment of  goods  I  was  to  take  with  me.  We  used 
sometimes  to  walk  on  the  beach,  in  expectation 


64  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

of  seeing  a  vessel  pass  by;  but  this  was  very  pre- 
carious, as  at  that  time  the  place  was  not  at  all 
resorted  to  by  ships  for  trade.  Many  passed  in 
the  night,  others  kept  at  a  considerable  distance 
from  the  shore.  In  a  word,  I  do  not  know  that 
any  one  had  stopped  while  I  was  there,  though 
some  had  before,  upon  observing  a  signal  made 
from  the  shore.  In  February,  1747,  (I  know  not 
the  exact  day,)  my  fellow-servant  walking  down 
on  the  beach  in  the  forenoon,  saw  a  vessel  sail- 
ing past,  and  made  a  smoke  in  token  of  trade. 
She  was  already  a  little  beyond  the  place ;  and 
as  the  wind  was  fair  the  captain  was  in  some  de- 
mur whether  to  stop  or  not.  However,  had  my 
companion  been  half  an  hour  later  she  would 
have  been  gone  beyond  recall;  but  he  soon  saw 
her  come  to  an  anchor,  and  went  on  board  in 
a  canoe ;  and  this  proved  the  very  ship  I  have 
spoken  of.  One  of  the  first  questions  he  was 
asked  was  concerning  me  ;  and  when  the  captain 
understood  I  was  so  near,  he  came  on  shore  to 
deliver  his  message.  Had  an  invitation  from 
home  reached  me  when  I  was  sick  and  starving 
at  the  Plantanes  I  should  have  received  it  as  life 
from  the  dead;  but  now,  for  the  reasons  already 
given,  I  heard  it  at  first  with  indifference.  The 
captain,  unwilling  to  lose  me,  told  a  story  alto- 
gether of  his  own  framing :  he  gave  me  a  very 
plausible  account  how  he  had  missed  a  large 


VOYAGE  ON  THE  AFRICAN  COAST. 


65 


packet  of  letters  and  papers  which  he  should 
have  brought  with  him ;  but  this  he  said  he  was 
sure  of,  having  had  it  from  my  father's  own 
mouth,  as  well  as  from  his  employer,  that  a  per- 
son lately  dead  had  left  me  £400  a  year;  adding 
further,  that  if  I  was  any  way  embarrassed  in  my 
circumstances  he  had  express  orders  to  redeem 
me,  though  it  should  cost  one  half  of  his  cargo. 
Every  particular  of  this  was  false ;  nor  could  I 
myself  believe  what  he  said  about  the  estate  ;  but 
as  I  had  some  expectation  from  an  aged  relative, 
I  thought  a  part  of  it  might  be  true.  But  I  was 
not  long  in  suspense ;  for  though  my  father's  care 
and  desire  to  see  me  had  too  little  weight  with 
me,  and  would  have  been  insufficient  to  make  me 
quit  my  retreat ;  yet  the  remembrance  of  Mrs. 
N  ,  the  hope  of  seeing  her,  and  the  possibili- 
ty that  accepting  this  offer  might  once  more  put 
me  in  a  way  of  gaining  her  hand,  prevailed  over 
all  other  considerations.  The  captain  further 
promised  (and  in  this  he  kept  his  word)  that  I 
should  lodge  in  his  cabin,  dine  at  his  table,  and 
be  his  constant  companion,  without  expecting 
any  service  from  me.  And  thus  I  was  suddenly 
freed  from  a  captivity  of  about  fifteen  months. 
I  had  neither  a  thought  nor  a  desire  of  this  change 
one  hour  before  it  took  place.  I  embarked  with 
him,  and  in  a  few  hours  lost  sight  of  Kittam. 
How  much  is  their  blindness  to  be  pitied  who 
6* 


66 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


can  see  nothing  but  chance  in  events  of  this 
sort !  So  blind  and  stupid  was  I  at  that  time,  I 
made  no  reflection,  I  sought  no  direction  in  what 
had  happened :  like  a  wave  of  the  sea,  driven 
with  the  wind  and  tossed,  I  was  governed  by 
present  appearances,  and  looked  no  farther.  But 
He  who  is  eyes  to  the  blind  was  leading  me  in  a 
way  that  I  knew  not. 

Now  I  am  in  some  measure  enlightened,  I  can 
easily  perceive  that  it  is  in  the  adjustment  and 
concurrence  of  these  seemingly  fortuitous  cir- 
cumstances, that  the  ruling  power  and  wisdom 
of  God  is  most  evidently  displayed  in  human 
affairs.  How  many  such  casual  events  may  we 
remark  in  the  history  of  Joseph,  which  had  each 
a  necessary  influence  on  his  ensuing  promotion! 
If  he  had  not  dreamed,  or  if  he  had  not  told  his 
dream ;  if  the  Midianites  had  passed  by  a  day 
sooner,  or  a  day  later ;  if  they  had  sold  him  to 
any  person  but  Potiphar;  if  his  mistress  had 
been  a  better  woman ;  if  Pharaoh's  officers  had 
not  displeased  their  lord ;  or  if  any,  or  all  these 
things  had  fallen  out  in  any  other  manner  or 
time  than  they  did,  all  that  followed  had  been 
prevented ;  the  promises  and  purposes  of  God 
concerning  Israel,  their  bondage,  deliverance, 
polity  and  settlement,  must  have  failed;  and  as 
all  these  things  tended  to,  and  centered  in  Christ, 
the  promised  Savior,  the  desire  of  all  nations, 


VOYAGE  ON  THE  AFRICAN  COAST.  67 


would  not  have  appeared.  Mankind  had  been 
still  in  their  sins,  without  hope,  and  the  counsels 
of  God's  eternal  love  in  favor  of  sinners  defeat- 
ed. Thus  we  may  see  a  connection  between  Jo- 
seph's first  dream  and  the  death  of  our  Lord  Je  - 
sus Christ,  with  all  its  glorious  consequences. 
So  strong,  though  secret,  is  the  concatenation 
between  the  greatest  and  the  smallest  events. 
What  a  comfortable  thought  is  this  to  a  believer 
— to  know  that,  amidst  all  the  various  interfering 
designs  of  men,  the  Lord  has  one  constant  de- 
sign which  he  cannot,  will  not,  miss  j  namely,  his 
own  glory  Tn~~fh^rrornptete" salvation  of  his  peo- 
ple ;  and  that  he  is  wise,  and  strong,  and  faith- 
ful, to  make  even  those  things  which  seem  con- 
trary to  this  design,  subservient  to  promote  it. 
You  have  allowed  me  to  comment  upon  my  own 
text ;  yet  the  length  of  this  observation  may  need 
some  apology. 


68 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


LETTER  VII. 

Trading  on  the  African  coast. — Dangerous  voyage  for 
England. 

The  ship  I  was  now  on  board  as  a  passenger, 
was  on  a  trading  voyage  for  gold,  ivory,  dyer's 
wood  and  bees-wax.  It  requires  a  long  time  to 
collect  a  cargo  of  this  sort.  The  captain  began 
his  trade  at  Gambia,  had  been  already  four  or  five 
months  in  Africa,  and  continued  there  a  year,  or 
thereabouts,  after  I  was  with  him ;  in  which  time 
we  ranged  the  whole  coast  as  far  as  Cape  Lopez, 
which  lies  about  a  degree  south  of  the  equinoc- 
tial, and  more  than  a  thousand  miles  farther  from 
England  than  the  place  where  I  embarked.  I 
have  little  to  offer  worthy  your  notice  in  the 
course  of  this  tedious  voyage.  I  had  no  business 
to  employ  my  thoughts,  but  sometimes  amused 
myself  with  mathematics :  excepting  this,  my 
life,  when  awake,  was  a  course  of  most  horrid 
impiety  and  profaneness.  I  know  not  that  I  have 
ever  since  met  so  daring  a  blasphemer :  not 
content  with  common  oaths  and  imprecations,  I 
daily  invented  new  ones ;  so  that  I  was  often 
seriously  reproved  by  the  captain,  who  was  him- 


TRADING  ON  THE  AFRICAN  COAST. 


69 


self  a  very  passionate  man,  and  not  at  all  circum- 
spect in  his  expressions.  From  the  relation  I  at 
times  made  him  of  my  past  adventures,  and  what 
he  saw  of  my  conduct,  and  especially  toward  the 
close  of  the  voyage,  when  he  met  with  many 
disasters,  he  would  often  tell  me  that,  to  his 
grief,  he  had  a  Jonah  on  board  j  that  a  curse  at- 
tended me  wherever  I  went ;  and  that  all  the 
troubles  he  met  with  in  the  voyage  were  owing 
to  his  having  taken  me  into  the  vessel.  I  shall 
omit  any  further  particulars,  and  after  mention- 
ing an  instance  or  two  of  the  Lord's  mercy  to 
me  while  I  was  thus  defying  his  power  and 
patience,  I  shall  proceed  to  something  more 
worthy  your  perusal. 

Although  I  lived  long  in  the  excess  of  almost 
every  other  extravagance,  I  never  was  fond  of 
drinking ;  and  my  father  has  often  been  heard  to 
say,  that  while  I  avoided  drunkenness  he  should 
still  entertain  hopes  of  my  recovery.  But  some- 
times I  would  promote  a  drinking-bout  for  the 
sake  of  a  frolic,  as  I  termed  it )  for  though  I  did 
not  love  the  liquor,  I  was  sold  to  do  iniquity, 
and  delighted  in  mischief.  The  last  abominable 
frolic  of  this  sort  I  engaged  in  was  in  the  river 
Gabon :  the  proposal  and  expense  were  my  own. 
Four  or  five  of  us  one  evening  sat  down  upon 
deck  to  see  who  could  hold  out  longest  in  drink- 
ing geneva  and  rum  alternately:  a  large  sea- 


70  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

shell  supplied  the  place  of  a  glass.  I  was  very 
unfit  for  a  challenge  of  this  sort  j  for  my  head 
was  always  incapable  of  bearing  much  strong 
drink.  However,  I  began,  and  proposed  the  first 
toast,  which  I  well  remember  was  some  impreca- 
tion against  the  person  who  should  start  first. 
This  proved  to  be  myself.  My  brain  was  soon 
fired.  I  arose  and  danced  about  the  deck  like  a 
madman ;  and  while  I  was  thus  diverting  my 
companions  my  hat  went  overboard.  By  the  light 
of  the  moon  I  saw  the  ship's  boat,  and  eagerly 
threw  myself  over  the  side  to  get  into  her,  that 
1  might  recover  my  hat.  My  sight  in  that  cir- 
cumstance deceived  me ;  for  the  boat  was  not 
within  my  reach,  as  I  thought,  but  perhaps 
twenty  feet  from  the  ship's  side.  I  was,  however, 
half  overboard,  and  should  in  one  moment  more 
have  plunged  myself  into  the  water,  when  some- 
body caught  hold  of  my  clothes  behind,  and 
pulled  me  back.  This  was  an  amazing  escape ; 
for  I  could  not  swim  if  I  had  been  sober ;  the 
tide  ran  very  strong ;  my  companions  were  too 
much  intoxicated  to  save  me  ;  and  the  rest  of  the 
ship's  company  were  asleep.  So  near  was  I,  to 
all  appearance,  of  perishing  in  that  dreadful  con- 
dition, and  sinking  into  eternity  under  the  weight 
of  my  own  curse  ! 

Another  time,  at  Cape  Lopez,  some  of  us  had 
been  in  the  woods  and  shot  a  buffalo,  or  wild 


ADVENTURES   ON  THE  AFRICAN  COAST.  71 

cow ;  we  brought  a  part  of  it  on  board,  and  care- 
fully marked  the  place  (as  I  thought)  where  we 
left  the  remainder.  In  the  evening  we  returned 
to  fetch  it ;  but  we  set  out  too  late.  I  undertook 
to  be  the  guide  ;  but  night  coming  on  before  we 
could  reach  the  place,  we  lost  our  way.  Some- 
times we  were  in  swamps,  up  to  the  middle  in  wa- 
ter ;  and  when  we  recovered  dry  land,  we  could 
not  tell  whether  we  were  walking  toward  the 
ship,  or  wandering  farther  from  her.  Every  step 
increased  our  uncertainty.  The  night  grew  dark- 
er, and  we  were  entangled  in  inextricable  woods, 
where,  perhaps,  the  foot  of  man  had  never  trod 
before.  That  part  of  the  country  is  entirely  aban- 
doned to  wild  beasts,  with  which  it  prodigiously 
abounds.  We  were,  indeed,  in  a  terrible  case ; 
having  neither  light,  food  nor  arms,  and  expect- 
ing a  tiger  to  rush  from  behind  every  tree.  The 
stars  were  clouded,  and  we  had  no  compass  to 
form  a  judgment  which  way  we  were  going.  Had 
things  continued  thus,  we  had  probably  perished  ; 
but  as  it  pleased  God,  no  beast  came  near  us ; 
md  after  some  hours'  perplexity,  the  moon  arose, 
md  pointed  out  the  eastern  quarter.  It  appeared 
then,  as  we  had  expected,  that,  instead  of  draw- 
ing nearer  to  the  sea-side,  we  had  been  penetrat- 
ing into  the  country  ;  but  by  the  guidance  of  the 
moon  we  at  length  came  to  the  water-side,  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  ship.    We  got  safe 


72  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


on  board  without  any  other  inconvenience  than 
what  we  suffered  from  fear  and  fatigue. 

These,  and  many  other  deliverances,  were  all 
at  that  time  entirely  lost,  upon  me.  The  admoni- 
tions of  conscience,  which,  from  successive  re- 
pulses had  grown  weaker  and  weaker,  at  length 
entirely  ceased  ;  and  for  a  space  of  many  months, 
if  not  for  some  years,  I  cannot  recollect  that  I  had 
a  single  check  of  that  sort.  At  times  I  have  been 
visited  with  sickness,  and  have  believed  myself 
near  to  death ;  but  I  had  not  the  least  concern 
about  the  consequences.  In  a  word,  I  seemed  to 
have  every  mark  of  final  impenitence  and  rejec- 
tion ;  neither  judgments  nor  mercies  made  the 
least  impression  on  me. 

At  length,  our  business  finished,  we  left  Cape 
Lopez,  and  after  a  few  days'  stay  at  the  island  of 
Annabona,  to  lay  in  provisions,  we  sailed  home- 
ward, about  the  beginning  of  January,  1748. 
From  Annabona  to  England,  without  touching  at 
any  intermediate  port,  is  a  very  long  navigation, 
perhaps  more  than  seven  thousand  miles,  if  we 
include  the  circuit  necessary  to  be  made  on  ac- 
count of  the  trade-winds.  We  sailed  first  west- 
ward, till  near  the  coast  of  Brazil,  then  northward, 
to  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  with  the  usual 
variations  of  wind  and  weather,  and  without  meet 
ing  any  thing  extraordinary.  On  these  Banks  we 
stopped  half  a  day  to  fish  for  cod  :  this  was  then 


VOYAGE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


73 


chiefly  for  diversion  ;  we  had  provisions  enough, 
and  little  expected  those  fish  (as  it  afterward 
proved)  wrould  be  all  we  should  have  to  subsist 
on.  We  left  the  Banks  March  1,  with  a  hard  gale 
of  wind  westerly,  which  pushed  us  fast  home- 
ward. I  should  here  observe  that,  with  the  length 
of  this  voyage  in  a  hot  climate,  the  vessel  was 
greatly  out  of  repair,  and  very  unfit  to  support 
stormy  weather  ;  the  sails  and  cordage  were  like- 
wise very  much  worn,  and  many  such  circum- 
stances concurred  to  render  what  followed  more 
dangerous.  I  think  it  was  on  the  *9th  of  March, 
the  day  before  our  catastrophe,  that  I  felt  a 
thought  pass  through  my  mind  which  I  had  long 
been  a  stranger  to.  Among  the  few  books  we  had 
on  board,  one  was  Stanhope's  Thomas  a  Kempis  : 
I  carelessly  took  it  up,  as  I  had  often  done  before, 
to  pass  away  the  time  j  but  I  had  still  read  it  with 
the  same  indifference  as  if  it  wras  entirely  a  ro- 
mance. However,  while  I  was  reading  this  time, 
an  involuntary  suggestion  arose  in  my  mind, 
What  if  these  things  should  be  true  \  I  could  not 
bear  the  force  of  the  inference,  as  it  related  to 
myself,  and  therefore  shut  the  book  presently. 
My  conscience  witnessed  against  me  once  more  ; 
and  I  concluded  that,  true  or  false,  I  must  abide 
the  consequences  of  my  own  choice.  I  put  an  ab- 
rupt end  to  these  reflections  by  joining  in  with  some 
vain  conversation  or  other  that  came  in  the  way. 

Newton.  7 


A 

74)  LIFE  OF  KEV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

But  now  the  Lord's  time  was  come,  and  the  con- 
viction I  was  so  unwilling  to  receive  was  deeply 
impressed  upon  me  by  an  awful  dispensation.  I 
went  to  bed  that  night  in  my  usual  security  and 
indifference,  but  was  awakened  from  a  sound 
sleep  by  the  force  of  a  violent  sea  which  broke 
on  board  us.  So  much  of  it  came  down  below  as 
filled  the  cabin  I  lay  in  with  water.  This  alarm 
was  followed  by  a  cry  from  the  deck  that  the 
ship  was  going  down,  or  sinking.  As  soon  as  I 
could  recover  myself  I  essayed  to  go  upon  deck ; 
but  was  met  upon  the  ladder  by  the  captain,  who 
desired  me  to  bring  a  knife  with  me.  While  I  re- 
turned for  the  knife  another  person  went  up  in 
my  room,  who  was  instantly  washed  overboard. 
We  had  no  leisure  to  lament  him;  nor  did  we 
expect  to  survive  him  long;  for  we  soon  found 
the  ship  was  filling  with  water  very  fast.  The 
sea  had  torn  away  the  upper  timbers  on  one  side, 
and  made  the  ship  a  mere  wreck  in  a  few  mi- 
nutes. I  shall  not  affect  to  describe  this  disaster 
in  the  marine  dialect,  which  would  be  understood 
by  few;  and  therefore  I  can  give  you  but  a  very 
inadequate  idea  of  it.  Taking  in  all  circumstances, 
it  was  astonishing,  and  almost  miraculous,  that 
any  of  us  survived  to  relate  the  story.  We  had  im- 
mediately recourse  to  the  pumps ;  but  the  water 
increased  against  all  our  efforts:  some  of  us  were 
set  to  bailing  in  another  part  of  the  vessel,  that 


VOYAGE   FOR  ENGLAND. 


73 


is,  to  lade  it  out  with  buckets  and  pails.  We 
had  but  eleven  or  twelve  people  to  sustain  this 
service;  and,  notwithstanding  all  we  could  do, 
she  was  full,  or  very  near  it :  and  then,  with  a 
common  cargo,  she  must  have  sunk  of  course ; 
but  we  had  a  great  quantity  of  beeswax  and  wood 
on  board,  which  were  specifically  lighter  than 
the  water;  and  as  it  pleased  God  that  we  received 
this  shock  in  the  very  crisis  of  the  gale,  toward 
morning  we  were  enabled  to  employ  some  means 
for  our  safety,  which  succeeded  beyond  hope. 
In  about  an  hour's  time  the  day  began  to  break, 
and  the  wind  abated.  We  expended  most  of  our 
clothes  and  bedding  to  stop  the  leaks;  (though 
the  weather  was  exceedingly  cold,  especially  to 
us  who  had  so  lately  left  a  hot  climate  ;)  over 
these  we  nailed  pieces  of  boards,  and  at  last  per- 
ceived the  water  abate.  At  the  beginning  of  this 
hurry  I  was  little  affected.  I  pumped  hard,  and  en- 
deavored to  animate  myself  and  my  companions. 
I  told  one  of  them  that  in  a  few  days  this  distress 
would  serve'  us  to  talk  of  over  a  glass  of  wine  : 
but  he  beinGf  a  less  hardened  sinner  than  myself, 
replied  with  tears,  frXo,  it  is  too  late  now."1 
About  nine  o'clock,  being  almost  spent  with  cold 
and  labor,  I  went  to  speak  with  the  captain,  who 
was  busied  elsewhere ;  and  just  as  I  was  return- 
ing from  him,  I  said,  almost  without  any  mean- 
ing, "  If  this  will  not  do,  the  Lord  have  mercy  on 


76 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


us."  This  (though  spoken  with  little  reflection) 
was  the  first  desire  I  had  breathed  for  mercy  for 
the  space  of  many  years.  1  was  instantly  struck 
with  my  own  words,  and  as  Jehu  said  once,  What 
hast  thou  to  do  with  peace?  so  it  directly  occurred, 
What  mercy  can  there  be  for  me?  I  was  obliged  to 
return  to  the  pump,  and  there  I  continued  till 
noon,  almost  every  passing  wave  breaking  over 
my  head;  but  we  made  ourselves  fast  with  ropes 
that  we  might  not  be  washed  away.  Indeed,  »' 
expected  that  every  time  the  vessel  descended 
in  the  sea,  she  would  rise  no  more ;  and  though 
I  dreaded  death  now,  and  my  heart  foreboded  the 
worst,  if  the  Scriptures,  which  I  had  long  since 
opposed,  were  indeed  true,  yet  still  I  was  but 
half-convinced,  and  remained  for  a  space  of  time 
in  a  sullen  frame,  a  mixture  of  despair  and  impa- 
tienee.  I  thought  if  the  christian  religion  were 
true  I  could  not  be  forgiven ;  and  was  therefore 
expecting,  and  almost,  at  times  wishing,  to  know 
the  worst  of  it. 


VOYAGE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


77 


LETTER  VIII. 

Voyage  for  England  continued. — His  infidelity  renounced* 

The  10th  (that  is,  in  the  present  style,  the 
2 1st)  of  March  is  a  day  much  to  be  remembered 
by  me ;  and  I  have  never  suffered  it  to  pass 
wholly  unnoticed  since  the  year  174-8 :  on  that 
day  the  Lord  sent  from  on  high  and  delivered 
me  out  of  deep  waters.  I  continued  at  the  pump 
from  three  in  the  morning  till  near  noon,  and  then 

•  I  could  do  no  more.  I  went  and  lay  down  upon 
my  bed,  uncertain,  and  almost  indifferent  whe- 
ther I  should  rise  again.  In  an  hour's  time  I  was 
called;  and  not  being  able  to  pump,  I  went  to 
the  helm  and  steered  the  ship  till  midnight,  ex- 
cepting a  short  interval  for  refreshment.  I  had 
here  leisure  and  convenient  opportunity  for  re- 
flection. I  began  to  think  of  my  former  religious 
professions  ;  the  extraordinary  turns  in  my  life  ; 
[he  calls,  warnings  and  deliverances  I  had  met 
with ;  the  licentious  course  of  my  conversation, 
particularly  my  unparalleled  effrontery  in  making 

[the  gospel-history  (which  I  could  not  then  be 
sure  was  false,  though  I  was  not  as  yet  assured 

I  it  was  true)  the  constant  subject  of  profane  ridi- 
cule. I  thought,  allowing  the  Scripture  premises, 


78  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

there  never  was,  nor  could  be,  such  a  sinner  as 
myself ;  and  then,  comparing  the  advantages  I 
had  broken  through,  I  concluded,  at  first,  that 
my  sins  were  too  great  to  be  forgiven.  The  Scrip- 
ture likewise  seemed  to  say  the  same ;  for  I  had 
formerly  been  well  acquainted  with  the  Bible, 
and  many  passages,  upon  this  occasion,  returne/ 
upon  my  memory,  particularly  those  awful  pas 
sages,  Prov.  1  :  24-31 ;  Heb.  6:4-6;  and  2  Pet 
2  :  20,  which  seemed  so  exactly  to  suit  my  case 
and  character  as  to  bring  with  them  a  presump- 
tive proof  of  a  divine  original.  Thus,  as  I  have 
said,  I  waited  with  fear  and  impatience  to  receive 
my  inevitable  doom.  Yet  though  I  had  thoughts 
of  this  kind,  they  were  exceedingly  faint  and  dis- 
proportionate ;  it  was  not  till  long  after,  (perhaps 
several  years,)  till  I  had  gained  some  clear  views 
of  the  infinite  righteousness  and  grace  of  Jesus 
Christ  my  Lord,  that  I  had  a  deep  and  strong  ap- 
prehension of  my  state  by  nature  and  practice: 
and  perhaps  till  then  I  could  not  have  borne  the 
sight.  So  wonderfully  does  the  Lord  proportion 
the  discoveries  of  sin  and  grace ;  for  he  knows 
our  frame,  and  that  if  he  were  to  put  forth  the 
greatness  of  his  power,  a  poor  sinner  would  be 
instantly  overwhelmed,  and  crushed  as  a  moth. 
But  to  return :  when  I  saw,  beyond  all  probabi- 
lity, there  was  still  a  hope  of  respite,  and  heard, 
about  six  in  the  evening,  that  the  ship  was  freed 


VOYAGE  FOR  ENGLAND.  79 

from  water,  there  arose  a  gleam  of  hope ;  I 
thought  I  saw  the  hand  of  God  displayed  in  our 
favor:  I  began  to  pray.  I  could  not  utter  the 
prayer  of  faith:  I  could  not  draw  near  to  a  re- 
conciled God,  and  call  him  Father.  My  prayer 
was  like  the  cry  of  the  ravens,  which  yet  the 
Lord  does  not  disdain  to  hear.  I  now  began  to 
think  of  that  Jesus  whom  I  had  so  often  derided  ; 
I  recollected  the  particulars  of  his  life,  and  of 
his  death:  a  death  for  sins  not  his  own,  but,  as 
I  remembered,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  in  their 
distress  should  put  their  trust  in  him.  And  now  ' 
I  chiefly  wanted  evidence.  The  comfortless  prin- 
ciples of  infidelity  were  deeply  riveted,  and  I 
rather  wished  tftan  believed  these  things  were 
real  facts.  You  will  please  to  observe,  sir,  that 
I  collect  the  strain  of  the  reasonings  and  exer- 
cises of  my  mind  in  one  view ;  but  I  do  not 
say  that  all  this  passed  at  one  time.  The  great 
question  now  was,  how  to  obtain  faith  ?  I  speak 
not  of  an  appropriating  faith,  (of  which  I  then 
knew  neither  the  nature  nor  necessity,)  but  how 
I  should  gain  an  assurance  that  the  Scriptures 
were  of  divine  inspiration,  and  a  sufficient  war- 
rant for  the  exercise  of  trust  and  hope  in  God. 
One  of  the  first  helps  I  received  (in  consequence 
of  a  determination  to  examine  the  New  Testa- 
ment more  carefully)  was  from  Luke,  11  :  13. 
I  had  been  sensible  that  to  profess  faith  in  Jesus 


so 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


Christ,  when  in  reality  I  did  not  believe  his  histo- 
ry, was  no  better  than  a  mockery  of  the  heart- 
searching  God ;  but  here  I  found  a  Spirit  spoken 
of,  which  was  to  be  communicated  to  those  who 
ask  it.  Upon  this  I  reasoned  thus:  If  this  book 
is  true,  the  promise  in  this  passage  is  true  like- 
wise :  I  have  need  of  that  very  Spirit  by  which 
the  whole  was  written,  in  order  to  understand 
it  aright.  He  has  engaged  here  to  give  that  Spi- 
rit to  those  who  ask.  I  must,  therefore,  pray 
for  it ;  and  if  it  is  of  God,  he  will  make  good 
his  own  word.  My  purposes  were  strengthened 
by  John,  7 :  17.  I  concluded  from  thence,  that 
though  I  could  not  say  from  my  heart  that  I 
believed  the  Gospel,  yet  I  would  for  the  present 
take  it  for  granted,  and  that  by  studying  it  in 
this  light  I  should  be  more  and  more  confirmed 
in  it.  If  what  I  am  writing  could  be  perused  by 
our  modern  infidels,  they  would  say  (for  I  too 
well  know  their  manner)  that  I  was  very  de- 
sirous to  persuade  myself  into  this  opinion.  I 
confess  I  was ;  and  so  would  they  be,  if  the 
Lord  should  show  them,  as  he  was  pleased  to 
show  me  at  that  time,  the  absolute  necessity  of 
some  expedient  to  interpose  between  a  righteous 
God  and  a  sinful  soul.  Upon  the  Gospel-scheme 
I  saw  at  least  a  peradventure  of  hope,  but  on 
every  other  side  I  was  surrounded  with  black, 
unfathomable  despair. 


VOYAGE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


SI 


The  wind  was  now  moderate,  but  continued 
fair,  and  we  were  still  drawing  nearer  to  our 
port.  We  began  to  recover  from  our  conster- 
nation, though  we  were  greatly  alarmed  by  our 
circumstances.  We  found  that  the  water  hav- 
ing floated  all  our  moveables  in  the  hold,  all  the 
casks  of  provision  had  been  beaten  to  pieces 
by  the  violent  motion  of  the  ship ;  on  the  other 
hand,  our  live  stock,  such  as  pigs,  sheep  and  poul- 
try, had  been  washed  overboard  in  the  storm.  In 
effect,  all  the  provisions  we  saved,  except  the 
fish  I  mentioned,  and  some  food  of  the  pulse 
kind,  which  used  to  be  given  to  the  hogs,  (and 
there  was  but  little  of  this  left,)  all  our  other  pro- 
visions would  have  subsisted  us  but  a  week  at 
scanty  allowance.  The  sails,  too,  were  mostly 
blown  away,  so  that  we  advanced  but  slowly 
even  while  the  wind  was  fair.  We  imagined  our- 
selves about  a  hundred  leagues  from  the  land, 
but  were  in  reality  much  farther.  Thus  we  pro- 
ceeded with  an  alternate  prevalence  of  hopes  and 
fears.  My  leisure  time  was  chiefly  employed  in 
reading  and  meditating  on  the  Scripture,  and 
praying  to  the  Lord  for  mercy  and  instruction. 

Things  continued  thus  for  four  or  five  days, 
or  perhaps  longer,  till  we  were  awakened  one 
morning  by  the  joyful  shouts  of  the  watch  upon 
deck  proclaiming  the  sight  of  land.  We  were 
all  soon  raised  at  the  sound.    The  dawning  was 


82 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


uncommonly  beautiful,  and  the  light  (just  strong 
enough  to  discover  distant  objects)  presented  us 
with  a  gladdening  prospect :  it  seemed  a  moun- 
tainous coast,  about  twenty  miles  from  us,  ter- 
minating in  a  cape  or  point ;  and  a  little  further 
two  or  three  small  islands,  or  hummocks,  as  just 
rising  out  of  the  water ;  the  appearance  and  po- 
sition seemed  exactly  answerable  to  our  hopes, 
resembling  the  north-west  extremity  of  Ireland, 
which  we  were  steering  for.  We  sincerely  con- 
gratulated each  other,  making  no  doubt  but  that, 
if  the  wind  continued,  we  should  be  in  safety  and 
plenty  the  next  day.  We  ate  up  the  residue  of 
our  bread  for  joy  at  this  welcome  sight,  and 
were  in  the  condition  of  men  suddenly  reprieved 
from  death.  While  we  were  thus  alert,  the  mate, 
with  a  graver  tone  than  the  rest,  sunk  our  spirits 
by  saying  "  that  he  wished  it  might  prove  land 
at  last."  If  one  of  the  common  sailors  had  first 
said  so,  I  know  not  but  the  rest  would  have  beat 
him  for  raising  such  an  unreasonable  doubt.  It 
brought  on,  however,  warm  debates  and  disputes, 
whether  it  was  land  or  not ;  but  the  case  was 
soon  unanswerably  decided,  for  the  day  was  ad- 
vancing fast,  and  in  a  little  time  one  of  our  fan- 
cied islands  began  to  grow  red  from  the  ap- 
proach of  the  sun,  which  soon  arose  just  under 
it.  In  a  word,  we  had  been  prodigal  of  our  bread 
too  hastily ;  our  land  was  nothing  but  clouds ; 


VOYAGE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


83 


and  in  half  an  hour  mors  the  whole  appearance 
was  dissipated.  Seamen  have  often  known  de- 
ceptions of  this  sort,  hut  in  our  extremity  we 
vvere  very  loth  to  he  undeceived.  However,  we 
comforted  ourselves  that  though  we  could  not 
>ee  the  land  yet,  we  should  soon,  the  wind 
litherto  continuing  fair.  But,  alas !  we  were 
leprived  of  this  hope  likewise.  That  very  day 
»ur  fair  wind  subsided  into  a  calm,  and  the  next 
norning  the  gales  sprung  up  from  the  south- 
cast,  directly  against  us,  and  continued  so  for 
nore  than  a  fortnight  afterward.  The  ship  was 
;o  wrecked  that  we  were  obliged  to  keep  the 
vind  always  on  the  broken  side,  unless  the  wea- 
her  was  quite  moderate.  Thus  we  were  driven, 
>y  the  wind  fixing  in  that  quarter,  still  further 
rom  our  port,  to  the  northward  of  all  Ireland, 
is  far  as  the  Lewis,  or  western  islands  of  Scot- 
and,  but  a  long  way  to  the  westward.  In  a  word, 
>nr  station  was  such  as  deprived  us  of  any  hope 
)f  being  relieved  by  other  vessels.  Jt  may,  iu- 
Iced,  be  questioned  whether  our  ship  was  not  the 
ery  first  that  had  been  in  that  part  of  the  ocean 
t  the  same  season  of  the  year. 

Provisions  now  began  to  grow  very  short:  the 
ialf  of  a  salted  cod  was  a  day's  subsistence  for 
welve  people.  We  had  plenty  of  fresh  water, 
>ut  no  bread,  hardly  any  clothes,  and  very  cold 
ireather.  We  had  incessant  labor  with  the  pumps 


84 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


to  keep  the  ship  above  water.  Much  labor  and 
little  food  wasted  us  fast,  and  one  man  died  un- 
der the  hardship.  Yet  our  sufferings  were  light 
in  comparison  to  our  just  fears.  We  could  not 
afford  this  bare  allowance  much  longer,  but  had 
a  terrible  prospect  of  being  either  starved  to 
death,  or  reduced  to  feed  upon  one  another.  Our 
expectations  grew  darker  every  day  ;  and  I  had 
a  further  trouble,  peculiar  to  myself.  The  cap- 
tain, whose  temper  was  quite  soured  by  distress, 
was  hourly  reproaching  me  (as  I  formerly  ob- 
served) as  the  sole  cause  of  the  calamity  j  and 
was  confident  that  if  I  was  thrown  overboard, 
and  not  otherwise,  they  should  be  preserved 
from  death.  He  did  not  intend  to  make  the 
experiment ;  but  the  continual  repetition  of  this 
in  my  ears  gave  me  much  uneasiness,  especially 
as  my  conscience  seconded  his  words  ;  I  thought 
it  very  probable  that  all  that  had  befallen  us  was 
on  my  account.  I  was  at  last  found  out  by  the 
powerful  hand  of  God,  and  condemned  in  my 
own  breast.  However,  proceeding  in  the  method 
I  have  described,  I  began  to  conceive  hopes 
greater  than  all  my  fears ;  especially  Avhen,  at 
the  time  we  were  ready  to  give  up  all  for  lost, 
and  despair  was  taking  place  in  every  counte- 
nance, I  saw  the  wind  come  about  to  the  very 
point  we  wished  it,  so  as  best  to  suit  that  broken 
part  of  the  ship  which  must  be  kept  out  of  the 


VOYA&E  FOR  ENGLAND. 


85 


water,  and  to  blow  so  gentle  as.  our  few  remain- 
ing sails  could  bear  j  and  thus  it  continued,  with- 
out any  observable  alteration  or  increase,  though 
at  an  unsettled  time  of  the  year,  till  we  once 
more  were  called  up  to  see  the  land,  and  were 
convinced  that  it  was  land  indeed.  We  saw  the 
island  Tory,  and  the  next  day  anchored  in  Lough 
Swilly,  in  Ireland.  This  was  the  8th  of  April, 
just  four  weeks  after  the  damage  we  sustained 
from  the  sea.  When  we  came  into  this  port  our 
very  last  victuals  was  boiling  in  the  pot ;  and 
before  we  had  been  there  two  hours,  the  wind, 
which  seemed  to  have  been  providentially  re- 
strained till  we  were  in  a  place  of  safety,  began 
to  blow  with  great  violence ;  so  that,  if  we  had 
continued  at  sea  that  night,  in  our  shattered  en- 
feebled condition,  we  must,  in  all  human  appear- 
ance, have  gone  to  the  bottom.  About  this  time 
I  began  to  know  that  there  is  a  God  that  hears 
and  answers  prayer.  How  many  times  has  he 
appeared  for  mc  since  this  great  deliverance ! 
yet,  alas !  how  distrustful  and  ungrateful  is  my 
heart  unto  this  hour. 


Newton. 


s 


Sb 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


LETTER  IX. 

Voyage  to  England  concluded — Apparent  Conversion — 1745. 

I  have  brought  my  history  down  to  the  time  of 
my  arrival  in  Ireland,  174-8  5  but  before  I  proceed 
I  would  look  back  a  little  to  give  you  some  fur- 
ther account  of  the  state  of  my  mind,  and  how 
far  I  was  helped  against  inward  difficulties,  which 
beset  me  at  the  time  I  had  many  outward  hard- 
ships to  struggle  with.  The  straits  of  hunger, 
cold,  weariness,  and  the  fears  of  sinking  and 
starving,  I  shared  in  common  with  others :  but 
besides  these,  I  felt  a  heart-bitterness  which  was 
properly  my  own ;  no  one  on  board  but  myself 
being  impressed  with  any  sense  of  the  hand  of 
God  in  our  danger  and  deliverance,  at  least  not 
awakened  to  any  concern  for  their  souls.  No 
temporal  dispensations  can  reach  the  heart  un- 
less the  Lord  himself  applies  them.  My  compan- 
ions in  danger  were  either  quite  unaffected,  or 
soon  forgot  it  all ;  but  it  was  not  so  with  me  ,* 
not  that  I  was  any  wiser  or  better  than  they,  but 
because  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  vouchsafe  mc 
peculiar  mercy ;  otherwise  I  was  the  most  un- 
likely person  in  the  ship  to  receive  an  impres- 
sion, having  been  often  before  quite  stupid  and 


VOYAGE  TO  ENGLAND. 


R7 


hardened  in  the  very  face  of  great  dangers,  and 
having  always,  till  this  time,  hardened  my  neck 
still  more  and  more  after  every  reproof.  I  can  see 
no  reason  why  the  Lord  singled  me  out  for  mercy, 
but  this,  "  that  so  it  seemed  good  to  him  j"  un- 
less it  was  to  show  by  one  astonishing  instance, 
that  "  with  him  nothing  is  impossible." 

There  were  no  persons  on  board  to  whom  I 
could  open  myself  with  freedom  concerning  the 
state  of  my  soul,  none  from  whom  I  could  ask 
advice.  As  ,to  books,  I  had  a  New  Testament, 
Stanhope,  already  mentioned,  and  a  volume  of 
Bishop  Beveridge's  Sermons,  one  of  which,  upon 
our  Lord's  Passion,  affected  me  much.  In  perus- 
ing the  New  Testament,  I  was  struck  with  seve- 
ral passages,  particularly  that  of  the  fig-tree, 
Luke,  13;  the  case  of  St.  Paul,  1  Tim.  1;  but 
particularly  the  prodigal,  Luke,  15;  a  case  I 
thought  had  never  been  so  nearly  exemplified  as 
by  myself:  and  then  the  goodness  of  the  father 
in  receiving,  nay,  in  running  to  meet  such  a  son  ; 
and  this  intended  only  to  illustrate  the  Lord's 
goodness  to  returning  sinners:  this  gained  upon 
me.  I  continued  much  in  prayer  ;  I  saw  that  the 
Lord  had  interposed  so  far  to  save  me  ;  and  I 
hoped  he  would  do  more.  The  outward  circum- 
stances helped  in  this  place  to  make  me  still  more 
serious  and  earnest  in  crying  to  Him  who  alone 
could  relieve  me ;  and  sometimes  I  thought  I 


LIFE   OF  REV.   JOHN  NEWTON. 


could  be  content  to  die  even  for  want  of  food,  if 
I  might  but  die  a  believer.  Thus  far  I  was  an- 
swered, that  before  we  arrived  in  Ireland  I  had  a 
satisfactory  evidence  in  my  own  mind  of  the  truth 
of  the  Gospel,  as  considered  in  itself,  and  its  ex- 
act suitableness  to  answer  all  my  needs.  I  saw 
that  by  the  way  there  pointed  out,  God  might  de- 
clare, not  his  mercy  only,  but  his  justice  also,  in 
the  pardon  of  sin,  on  account  of  the  obedience 
and  sufferings  of  Jesus  Christ.  My  judgment  at 
that  time  embraced  the  sublime  doctrine  of"  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh,  reconciling  the  world  to 
himself."  I  bad  no  idea  of  those  systems  which 
allow  the  Savior  no  higher  honor  than  that  of  an 
upper  servant,  or,  at  the  most,  a  demi-god.  I  stood 
in  need  of  an  almighty  Savior,  and  such  a  one  I 
found  described  in  the  New  Testament.  Thus 
far  the  Lord  had  wrought  a  marvellous  thingj__I^ 
was  no  longer  an  infidel ;  I  heartily  renounced 
mjHformer  profaneness ;  I  had  taken  up  some 
right  notions,  was  seriously  disposed,  and  sin- 
cerely touched  with  a  sense  of  the  undeserved 
mercy  I  had  received,  in  being  brought  safe 
through  so  many  dangers.  I  was  sorry  for  my 
past  misspent  life,  and  purposed  an  immediate  re- 
formation: I  was  quite  freed  from  the  habit  of 
swearing,  which  seemed  to  have  been  deeply 
rooted  in  me  as  a  second  nature.  Thus,  to  all 
appearance,  I  was  a  new  man. 


VOYAGE  FOR   ENGLAND.  89 

But  though  I  cannot  doubt  that  this  change,  so 
far  as  it  prevailed,  was  wrought  by  the  Spirit  and 
power  of  God;  yet  still  I  was  greatly  deficient 
in  many  respects.  I  was,  in  some  degree,  af- 
fected with  a  sense  of  my  more  enormous  sins  ; 
but  I  was  little  aware  of  the  innate  evils  of  my 
heart.  I  had  no  apprehension  of  the  spirituality 
and  extent  of  the  law  of  God.;  the  hidden  life  of 
a  christian,  as  it  consists  in  communion  with 
God  by  Jesus  Christ ;  and  a  continual  dependance 
on  him  for  hourly  supplies  of  wisdom,  strength 
and  comfort,  was  a  mystery  of  which  I  had  as 
yet  no  knowledge.  I  acknowledged  the  Lord's 
mercy  in  pardoning  what  was  past,  but  depended 
chiefly  upon  my  own  resolution  to  do  better  for 
the  time  to  come.  I  had  no  christian  friend  or 
faithful  minister  to  advise  me  that  my  strength 
was  no  more  than  my  righteousness ;  and  though 
I  soon  began  to  inquire  for  serious  books,  yet, 
not  having  spiritual  discernment,  I  frequently 
made  a  wrong  choice ;  and  I  was  not  brought  in 
the  way  of  evangelical  preaching  or  conversation 
(except  a  few  times  when  I  heard  but  understood 
not)  for  six  years  after  this  period.  Those  things 
the  Lord  was  pleased  to  discover  to  me  gradual- 
ly. I  learned  them  here  a  little  and  there  a  little, 
by  my  own  painful  experience,  at  a  distance  from 
the  common  means  and  ordinances,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  same  course  of  evil  company  and 


90 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


bad  examples  as  I  had  been  conversant  with  for 
some  time.  From  this  period  I  could  no  more 
make  a  mock  at  sin,  or  jest  with  holy  things;  I 
no  more  questioned  the  truth  of  Scripture,  or  lost 
a  sense  of  the  rebukes  of  conscience.  ^Therefore 
{  consider  this  as  the  beginning  of  my  return  to 
God,  or  rather  of  his  return  to  me  ;  but  I  cannot 
consider  myself  to  have  been  a  believer  (in  the 
full  sense  of  the  word)  till  a  considerable  time 
afterward. 

I  have  told  you  that,  in  the  time  of  our  dis- 
tress, we  had  fresh  water  in  abundance.  This 
was  a  considerable  relief  to  us,  especially  as  our 
spare  diet  was  mostly  salt-fish,  without  bread ; 
we  drank  plentifully,  and  were  not  afraid  of  want- 
ing water;  yet  our  stock  of  this  likewise  was 
much  nearer  to  an  end  than  we  expected  ;  we  sup- 
posed that  we  had  six  large  butts  of  water  on 
board ;  and  it  was  well  that  we  were  safe  arrived 
in  Ireland  before  we  discovered  that  five  of 
them  were  empty,  having  been  removed  out  of 
their  places,  and  stove  by  the  violent  agitation 
when  the  ship  was  full  of  water.  If  we  had  found 
this  out  while  we  were  at  sea,  it  would  have 
greatly  heightened  our  distress,  as  we  must 
have  drunk  more  sparingly. 

While  the  ship  was  refitting  at  Lough  Swilly, 
I  repaired  to  Londonderry.  I  lodged  at  an  ex- 
ceedingly good  house,  where  I  was  treated  with 


VOYAGE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


91 


much  kindness,  and  soon  Tecruited  my  health  and 
strength.  I  was  now  a  serious  professor,  went 
twice  a-day  to  the  prayers  at  church,  and  was,  at 
times,  very  particular  and  earnest  in  my  private 
devotion  ;  but  yet,  for  want  of  a  better  knowledge 
of  myself,  and  the  subtlety  of  Satan's  tempta- 
tions, I  was  soon  seduced  to  forget  the  vows  of 
God  that  were  upon  me.  One  day  as  I  was  abroad 
with  the  mayor  of  the  city,  and  some  other  gen- 
tlemen, shooting,  I  climbed  up  a  steep  bank,  and 
pulling  my  fowling-piece  after  me,  as  1  held  it  in 
a  perpendicular  direction,  it  went  off  so  near  my 
face  as  to  burn  away  the  corner  of  my  hat.  Thus, 
when  we  think  ourselves  in  the  greatest  safety, 
we  are  no  less  exposed  to  danger  than  when  all 
the  elements  seem  conspiring  to  destroy  us.  The 
Divine  Providence,  which  is  sufficient  to  deliver 
us  in  our  utmost  extremity,  is  equally  necessary 
to  our  preservation  in  the  most  peaceful  situation. 

During  our  stay  in  Ireland  I  wrote  home.  The 
vessel  I  was  in  had  not  been  heard  of  for  eio-h- 
teen  months,  and  was  given  up  for  lost  long  be- 
fore. My  father  had  no  more  expectation  of  hear- 
ing that  I  was  alive ;  but  he  received  my  letter  a 
few  days  before  he  left  London.  He  was  just 
going  governor  of  York  Fort,  in  Hudson's  Bay, 
from  whence  he  never  returned.  He  sailed  be- 
fore I  landed  in  England,  or  he  had  purposed  to 
take  me  with  him ;  but  God  designing  otherwise, 


92 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


one  hinderance  or  another  delayed  us  in  Ireland 
until  it  was  too  late.  I  received  two  or  three  af- 
fectionate letters  from  him,  but  I  never  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  him  more.  I  had  hopes  that, 
in  three  years  more,  I  should  have  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  asking  his  forgiveness  for  the  uneasi 
ness  my  disobedience  had  given  him;  but  the 
ship  that  was  to  have  brought  him  home  came 
without  him.  According  to  the  best  accounts 
we  received,  he  was  seized  with  the  cramp  when 
bathing,  and  drowned,  a  little  before  her  arrival 
in  the  bay.    Excuse  this  digression. 

My  father,  willing  to  contribute  all  in  his  power 
to  my  satisfaction,  paid  a  visit,  before  his  depar- 
ture, to  my  friends  in  Kent,  and  gave  his  con- 
sent to  the  union  which  had  been  so  long  talked 

of.  Thus,  when  I  returned  to  I  found  I  had 

only  the  consent  of  one  person  to  obtain ;  with 
her  I  as  yet  stood  at  as  great  an  uncertainty  as 
on  the  first  day  I  saw  her. 

I  arrived  at  Liverpool  the  latter  end  of  May, 
1748,  about  the  same  day  that  my  father  sailed 
from  the  Nore ;  but  found  the  Lord  had  provided 
me  another  father  in  the  gentleman  whose  ship 
had  brought  me  home.  He  received  me  with  great 
tenderness,  and  the  strongest  expressions  of 
friendship  and  assistance ;  yet  no  more  than  he 
has  since  made  good:  for  to  him,  as  the  instru- 
ment of  God's  goodness,  I  owe  my  all.   Yet  it 


ARRIVAL  IN  ENGLAND. 


93 


would  not  have  been  in  the  power  even  of  this 
friend  to  have  served  me  effectually,  if  the  Lord 
had  not  met  with  me  on  my  way  home,  as  I  have 
related.  Till  then  I  was  like  the  man  possessed 
with  the  legion.  No  arguments,  no  persuasion, 
no  views  of  interest,  no  remembrance  of  the  past, 
or  regard  to  the  future,  could  have  constrained 
me  within  the  bounds  of  common  prudence.  But 
now  I  was,  in  some  measure,  restored  to  my 
senses.  My  friend  immediately  offered  me  the 
command  of  a  ship  ;  but,  upon  mature  considera- 
tion, I  declined  it  for  the  present.  I  had  been 
hitherto  always  unsettled  and  careless ;  and 
therefore  thought  I  had  better  make  another 
voyage  first,  and  learn  to  obey,  and  acquire  a 
further  insight  and  experience  in  business  before 
I  ventured  to  undertake  such  a  charge.  The  mate 
of  the  vessel  I  came  home  in  was  preferred  to  the 
command  of  a  new  ship,  and  I  engaged  to  go  in 
the  station  of  mate  with  him.  I  made  a  short  visit 
to  London,  &c.  which  did  not  fully  answer  my 
views.  I  had  but  one  opportunity  of  seeing  Mrs. 

N  ,  of  which  I  availed  myself  very  little  ;  for 

I  was  always  exceedingly  awkward  in  pleading 
my  own  cause  in  our  conversation.  But  after  my 
return  to  Liverpool  I  put  the  question  in  such  a 
manner,  by  letter,  that  she  could  not  avoid  (un- 
less I  had  greatly  mistaken  her)  coming  to  some 
sort  of  an  explanation.  Her  answer  (though  pen- 


94, 


LIFE  OF  TvEV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


ned  with  abundance  of  caution)  satisfied  me ;  as 
I  collected  from  it  that  she  was  free  from  any 
other  engagement,  and  not  unwilling  to  wait  the 
event  of  the  voyage  I  had  undertaken.  I  should 
be  ashamed  to  trouble  you  with  these  little  de- 
tails, if  you  had  not  yourself  desired  me. 


LETTER  X. 


Sails  for  Africa  as  Mate. — Sickness. — Studies  Latin. 

My  connections  with  sea-affairs  have  often  led 
me  to  think,  that  the  varieties  observable  in  chris- 
tian experience  may  be  properly  illustrated  from 
the  circumstances  of  a  voyage.  Imagine  to  your- 
self a  number  of  vessels,  at  different  times,  and 
from  different  places,  bound  to  the  same  port; 
there  are  some  things  in  which  all  these  would 
agree — the  compass  steered  by,  the  port  in  view, 
the  general  rules  of  navigation,  both  as  to  the 
management  of  the  vessel  and  determining  their 
astronomical  observations,  would  be  the  same  in 
all.  In  other  respects  they  would  differ;  perhaps 
no  two  of  them  would  meet  with  the  same  dis- 
tribution of  winds  and  weather.  Some  we  see 


VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA  AS  MATE.  95 

et  out  with  a  prosperous  gale  ;  and  when  they 
tlmost  think  their  passage  secured  they  are 
checked  by  adverse  blasts ;  and,  after  enduring 
much  hardship  and  danger,  and  frequent  expec- 
ations  of  shipwreck,  they  just  escape,  and  reach 
he  desired  haven.  Others  meet  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulties at  first  ;  they  put  forth  in  a  storm,  and 
ire  often  beaten  back;  at  length  their  voyage 
iroves  favorable,  and  they  enter  the  port  with  a 
ich  and  abundant  entrance.  Some  are  hard  beset 
vith  cruisers  and  enemies,  and  obliged  to  fight 
heir  way  through  ;  others  meet  with  little  re- 
narkable  in  their  passage.  Is  it  not  thus  in  the 
spiritual  life  1  All  true  believers  walk  by  the 
>ame  rule,  and  mind  the  same  things ;  the  wora 
)f  God  is  their  compass;  Jesus  is  both  their 
lolar  star  and  their  sun  of  righteousness;  their 
learts  and  faces  are  all  set  Zion-ward.  Thus  far 
hey  are  as  one  body,  animated  by  one -spirit;  yet 
heir  experience,  formed  upon  these  common 
principles,  is  far  from  being  uniform.  The  Lord, 
n  his  first  call,  and  his  following  dispensations, 
las  a  regard  to  the  situation,  temper  and  talents 
)f  each,  and  to  the  particular  services  or  trials 
ic  has  appointed  them  for.  Though  all  are  ex- 
ercised at  times,  yet  some  pass  through  the 
oyagc  of  life  much  more  smooth! y  than  others. 
3ut  he  "  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind, 
md  measures  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his 


06 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


hand,"  will  not  suffer  any  of  whom  he  has  once 
taken  charge  to  perish  in  the  storms,  though  for 
a  season,  perhaps,  many  of  them  are  ready  to 
give  up  all  hopes. 

We  must  not,  therefore,  make  the  experience 
of  others,  in  all  respects,  a  rule  to  ourselves,  nor 
our  own  a  rule  to  others  5  yet  these  are  common 
mistakes,  and  productive  of  many  more.  As  to 
myself,  every  part  of  my  case  has  been  extraordi- 
nary. I  have  hardly  met  a  single  instance  resem- 
bling it.  Few,  very  few,  have  been  recovered  from 
such  a  dreadful  state  ;  and  the  few  that  have  been 
thus  favored  have  generally  passed  through  the 
most  severe  convictions ;  and  after  the  Lord  has 
given  them  peace,  their  future  lives  have  been 
usaally  more  zealous,  bright,  and  exemplary  than 
common.  Now,  as  on  the  one  hand  my  convictions 
were  very  moderate,  and  far  below  what  might 
have  been  expected  from  the  dreadful  review  I 
had  to  make  j  so,  on  the  other,  my  first  beginnings 
in  a  religious  course  were  as  faint  as  can  be  well 
imagined.  I  never  knew  that  season  alluded  to, 
Jer.  2:2;  Rev.  2  :  4,  usually  called  the  time  of 
ihe  first  love.  Who  would  not  expect  to  hear  that, 
after  such  a  wonderful  unhoped-for  deliverance 
as  I  had  received,  and  after  my  eyes  were  in 
some  measure  enlightened  to  see  things  aright, 
I  should  immediately  cleave  to  the  Lord  and  his 
ways  with  full  purpose  of  heart,  and  consult  no 


VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA  AS  31  ATE. 


97 


more  with  flesh  and  blood  1  But,  alas!  it  was  far 
jtherwise  with  me.  I  had  learned  to  pray  ;  I  set 
>ome  value  upon  the  word  of  God,  and  was  no 
longer  a  libertine  :  but  my  soul  still  cleaved  to 
he  dust.  Soon  after  my  departure  from  Liver- 
pool I  began  to  intermit,  and  grow  slack  in  wait- 
og  upon  the  Lord  ;  I  grew  vain  and  trifling  in 
my  conversation  ;  and  though  my  heart  smote 
ne  often,  yet  my  armor  was  gone,  and  I  declined 
fast ;  and  by  the  time  I  arrived  at  Guinea  I  seem- 
ed to  have  forgot  all  the  Lord's  mercies,  and  my 
own  engagements,  and  was  (profaneness  except- 
ed) almost  as  bad  as  before.  The  enemy  prepared 
i  train  of  temptations,  and  I  became  his  easy 
prey  ;  and,  for  about  a  month,  he  lulled  me  asleep 
in  a  course  of  evil,  of  which,  a  few  months  be- 
fore, I  could  not  have  supposed  myself  any  long- 
er capable.  How  much  propriety  is  there  in  the 
apostle's  advice,  "  Take  heed,  lest  any  of  you  be 
hardened  through  the  deceitfulness  of  sin  !"  0, 
who  can  be  sufficiently  upon  their  guard  !  Sin 
iirst  deceives,  and  then  it  hardens.  I  was  now 
fast  bound  in  chains  ;  I  had  little  desire,  and  no 
power  at  all,  to  recover  myself.  I  could  not  but 
at  times  reflect  how  it  was  with  me ;  but  if  I  at- 
tempted to  struggle  with  it,  it  was  in  vain.  I  was 
just  like  Samson  when  he  said,  tf  I  will  go  forth 
and  shake  myself  as  at  other  times      but  the 

Lord  was  departed,  and  he  found  himself  help- 

Nfevrtoa.  y 


98 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


less  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  By  the  remem 
brance  of  this  interval,  the  Lord  has  often  in 
structed  me  since,  what  a  poor  creature  I  am  in 
myself,  incapable  of  standing  a  single  hour  with- 
out continual  fresh  supplies  of  strength  and  grace 
from  the  fountain-head. 

At  length  the  Lord,  whose  mercies  are  infinite, 
interposed  in  my  behalf.  My  business  in  this 
voyage,  while  upon  the  coast,  was  to  sail  from 
place  to  place  in  the  long-boat,  to  purchase  slaves. 
The  ship  was  at  Sierra  Leone,  and  I  then  at  the 
Plantanes,  the  scene  of  my  former  captivity, 
where  every  thing  I  saw  might  remind  me  of  my 
ingratitude.  I  was  in  easy  circumstances,  court- 
ed by  those  who  formerly  despised  me  :  the  lime' 
trees  I  had  planted  were  growing  tall,  and  pro- 
mised fruit  the  following  year  ;  against  which  time 
I  had  expectations  of  returning  with  a  ship  of  my 
own.  But  none  of  these  things  affected  me,  till, 
as  I  have  said,  the  Lord  again  interposed  to  save 
me.  He  visited  me  with  a  violent  fever,  which 
broke  the  fatal  chain,  and  once  more  brought  me 
to  myself.  But,  O  what  a  prospect !  I  thought 
myself  now  summoned  away.  My  past  dangers 
and  deliverances,  my  earnest  prayers  in  the  time 
of  trouble,  my  solemn  vows  before  the  Lord,  and 
my  ungrateful  returns  for  all  his  goodness,  were 
all  present  to  my  mind  at  once.  Then  I  began  to 
wish  that  the  Lord  had  suffered  me  to  sink  into 


VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA  AS  MATE. 


99 


the  ocean  when  I  first  besought  his  mercy.  For 
a  little  while  I  concluded  the  door  of  hope  to  be 
quite  shut ;  but  this  continued  not  long.  Weak, 
and  almost  delirious,  I  arose  from  my  bed,  and 
crept  to  a  retired  part  of  the  island  ;  and  here  I 
found  a  renewed  liberty  to  pray.  I  durst  make 
no  more  resolves,  but  cast  myself  before  the  Lord, 
to  do  with  me  as  he  should  please.  I  do  not  re- 
member that  any  particular  text  or  remarkable 
discovery  was  presented  to  my  mind ;  but,  in 
general,  I  was  enabled  to  hope  and  believe  in  a 
crucified  Savior.  The  burden  was  removed  from 
my  conscience,  and  not  only  my  peace  but  my 
health  was  restored  ;  I  cannot  say  instantaneous- 
ly ;  but  I  recovered  from  that  hour ;  and  so  fast, 
that  when  I  returned  to  the  ship,  two  days  after- 
ward, I  was  perfectly  well  before  I  got  on  board. 
And  from  that  time,  I  trust,  I  have  been  deliver- 
ed from  the  power  and  dominion  of  sin  j  though, 
as  to  the  effects  and  conflicts  of  sin  dwelling  in 
me,  I  still  w  groan,  being  burdened."  I  now  be- 
gan again  to  wait  upon  the  Lord ;  and  though  I 
have  often  grieved  his  Spirit,  and  foolishly  wan- 
dered from  him  since,  (when,  alas,  shall  I  be  more 
wise  !)  yet  his  powerful  grace  has  hitherto  pre- 
served me  from  such  black  declensions  as  this  I 
have  last  recorded  :  and  I  humbly  trust  in  his 
mercy  and  promises,  that  he  will  be  my  guide 
and  guard  to  the  end. 


100 


LIFE   OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


My  leisure  hours  in  this  voyage  were  chiefly 
employed  in  learning  the  Latin  language,  which 
I  had  now  entirely  forgot.  This  desire  took  place 
from  an  imitation  I  had  seen  of  one  of  Horace's 
odes  in  a  magazine.  I  began  the  attempt  under 
the  greatest  disadvantages  possible  ;  for  I  pitch- 
ed upon  a  poet,  perhaps  the  most  difficult  of  the 
poets,  even  Horace  himself,  for  my  first  book.  I 
had  picked  up  an  old  English  translation  of  him, 
which,  with  Castalio's  Latin  Bible,  were  all  my 
help.  I  forgot  a  dictionary,  but  I  would  not 
therefore  give  up  my  purpose.  I  had  the  edition 
in  usum  Delpkini ;  and,  by  comparing  the  odes 
with  the  interpretation,  and  tracing  the  words,  I 
could  understand  from#  ope  place  to  another  by 
the  index,  with  the  assistance  I  could  get  from 
the  Latin  Bible  :  in  this  way,  by  dint  of  hard  in- 
dustry, often  waking  when  I  might  have  slept,  I 
made  some  progress  before  I  returned,  and  not 
only  understood  the  sense  and  meaning  of  many 
odes,  and  some  of  the  epistles,  but  began  to  re- 
lish the  beauties  of  the  composition,  and  acquired 
a  spice  of  what  Mr.  Law  calls  classical  enthusiasm. 
And  indeed,  by  this  means,  I  had  Horace  more 
in  my  mind  than  some  who  are  masters  of  the 
Latin  tongue  ;  for  my  helps  were  so  few,  that  I 
generally  had  the  passage  fixed  in  my  memory 
before  I  could  fully  understand  its  meaning. 

My  business  in  the  long-boat,  during  the  eight 


VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA  AS  MATE. 


101 


months  we  were  upon  the  coast,  exposed  me  to 
innumerable  dangers  and  perils,  from  burning 
suns  and  chilling  dews,  winds,  rains  and  thunder- 
storms, in  the  open  boat ;  and  on  shore,  from 
long  journeys  through  the  woods,  and  the  tem- 
per of  the  natives,  who  are  in  many  places 
cruel,  treacherous,  and  watching  opportunities 
for  mischief.  Several  boats  in  the  same  time 
were  cut  off,  several  white  men  poisoned,  and  in 
my  own  boat,  I  buried  six  or  seven  people  with 
fevers.  When  going  on  shore,  or  returning  from 
it,  in  their  little  canoes,  I  have  been  more  than 
once  or  twice  overset  by  the  violence  of  the  surf, 
[  or  breach  of  the  sea,  and  brought  to  land  half- 
dead  (for  I  could  not  swim.)  An  account  of  such 
escapes  as  I  still  remember,  would  swell  to  seve- 
ral sheets,  and  many  more  I  have  perhaps  forgot : 
I  shall  only  select  one  instance,  as  a  specimen  of 
that  wonderful  providence  which  watched  over 
me  for  good,  and  which,  I  doubt  not,  you  will 
think  worthy  of  notice. 

When  our  trade  was  finished,  and  we  were  near 
sailing  to  the  West  Indies,  the  only  remaining 
service  I  had  to  perform  in  the  boat  was  to  as- 
sist in  bringing  the  wood  and  water  from  the 
shore.  We  were  then  at  Rio  Cestors.  I  used  to 
go  into  the  river  in  the  afternoon  with  the  sea- 
breeze,  procure  my  loading  in  the  evening,  and 
return  on  board  in  the  morning  with  the  land- 


M>2  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

wind.  Several  of  these  little  voyages  I  had 
made ;  but  the  boat  was  become  old  and  almost 
unfit  for  use.  The  service  likewise  was  almost 
completed.  One  day,  having  dined  on  board,  I 
was  preparing  to  return  to  the  river  as  former- 
ly :  I  had  taken  leave  of  the  captain,  received 
his  orders,  was  ready  in  the  boat,  and  just  going 
to  put  off,  as  we  term  it,  that  is,  to  let  go  our 
i*opes  and  sail  from  the  ship.  In  that  instant 
the  captain  came  up  from  the  cabin,  and  called 
me  on  board  again.  I  went,  expecting  further 
orders ;  but  he  said  that  he  took  it  in  his  head 
(as  he  phrased  it)  that  I  should  remain  that  day  in 
the  ship ;  and  accordingly  ordered  another  man 
to  go  in  my  room.  I  was  surprised  at  this,  as  the 
boat  had  never  been  sent  away  without  me  be- 
fore, and  asked  him  the  reason ;  he  could  give 
me  no  reason  but  as  above,  that  so  he  would 
have  it.  Accordingly  the  boat  went  without  me  ; 
but  returned  no  more  :  she  sunk  that  night  in  the 
river,  and  the  person  who  had  supplied  my  place 
was  drowned.  I  was  much  struck  when  we  re- 
ceived news  of  the  event  the  next  morning.  The 
captain  himself,  though  quite  a  stranger  to  reli- 
gion, so  far  as  to  deny  a  particular  providence, 
could  not  help  being  affected ;  but  he  declared 
that  he  had  no  other  reason  for  countermanding 
me  at  that  time,  but  that  it  came  suddenly  into 
his  mind  to  detain  me. 


MARRIAGE. 


103 


LETTER  XI. 

Marriage. — First  Voyage  to  Africa  as  Captain. — Study  of 
Latin  exclianged  for  the  Scriptures. 

A  few  days  after  I  was  thus  wonderfully  saved 
from  an  unforeseen  danger  we  sailed  for  Anti- 
gua, and  from  thence  proceeded  to  Charleston, 
in  South  Carolina.   In  this  place  there  are  many 
serious  people ;  hut  I  knew  not  where  to  find 
them  out :  indeed  I  was  not  aware  of  a  difference, 
but  supposed  that  all  who  attended  public  wor- 
ship were  good  christians.  I  was  as  much  in  the 
dark  about  preaching,  not  doubting  but  whatever 
name  from  the  pulpit  must  be  very  good.   I  had 
two  or  three  opportunities  of  hearing  a  dissent- 
ing minister,  named  Smith,  who,  by  what  I  have 
known  since,  I  believe  to  have  been  an  excellent 
ind  powerful  preacher  of  the  Gospel ;  and  there 
vas  something  in  his  manner  that  struck  me,  but 
j  ■  did  not  rightly  understand  him.  The  best  words 
hat  men  can  speak  are  ineffectual  till  explained 
ind  applied  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  who  alone  can 
)pen  the  heart.  It  pleased  the  Lord,  for  some 
ime,  that  I  should  learn  no  more  than  what  he 
mabled  me  to  collect  from  my  own  experience 
md  reflection.  My  conduct  was  now  very  incon 


104  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


sistent.  Almost  every  day,  when  business  would 
permit,  I  used  to  retire  into  the  woods  and  fields 
(for  these,  when  at  hand,  have  always  been  my 
favorite  oratories,)  and  I  trust  I  began  to  taste 
the  sweets  of  communion  with  God  in^the  exer- 
cises of  prayer  and  praise ;  and  yet  I  frequently 
spent  the  evenings  in  vain  and  worthless  com- 
pany. Indeed  my  relish  for  worldly  diversions 
was  much  weakened,  and  I  was  rather  a  specta- 
tor than  a  sharer  in  their  pleasures;  but  I  did  not 
as  yet  see  the  necessity  of  an  absolute  forbear- 
ance. Yet  as  my  compliance  with  custom  and 
company  was  chiefly  owing  to  want  of  light,  ra- 
ther than  to  an  obstinate  attachment,  and  the 
Lord  was  pleased  to  preserve  me,  in  some  good 
degree,  I  trust,  from  what  I  knew  was  sinful,  I 
had,  for  the  most  part,  peace  of  conscience,  and 
my  strongest  desires  were  toward  the  things  of 
God.  As  yet  I  knew  not  the  force  of  that  pre- 
cept, "Abstain  from  all  appearance  of  evil;"  but 
very  often  ventured  upon  the  brink  of  tempta- 
tion ;  but  the  Lord  was  gracious  to  my  weakness, 
and  would  not  suffer  the  enemyto  prevail  against 
me.  I  did  not  break  with  the  world  at  once,  (as 
might,  in  my  case,  have  been  expected,)  but  I  was 
gradually  led  to  see  the  inconvenience  and  folly 
of  one  thing  after  another ;  and  when  I  saw  it, 
the  Lord  strengthened  me  to  give  it  up.  But  it 
was  some  years  before  I  was  set  quite  at  liberty 


MARRIAGE. 


105 


from  occasional  compliances  in  many  things,  in 
which  at  this  time  I  durst  by  no  means  allow 
myself. 

We  finished  our  voyage,  and  arrived  in  Liver- 
pool. When  the  ship's  affairs  were  settled,  I 
went  to  London,  and  from  thence  (as  you  may 
suppose)  I  soon  repaired  to  Kent.  More  than  se- 
ven years  had  now  elapsed  since  my  first  visit. 
No  views  of  the  kind  could  seem  more  chimeri- 
cal, or  could  subsist  under  greater  discourage- 
ments than  mine  had  done ;  yet,  through  the 
overruling  goodness  of  God,  while  I  seemed 
abandoned  to  myself,  and  blindly  following  my 
own  headstrong  passions,  I  was  guided  by  a  hand 
that  I  knew  not,  to  the  accomplishment  of  my 
wishes.  Every  obstacle  was  now  removed.  I  had 
renounced  my  former  follies,  my  interest  was 
established,  and  friends  on  all  sides  consenting, 
the  point  was  now  entirely  between  ourselves ; 
and  after  what  had  passed,  was  easily  concluded. 
Accordingly  our  hands  were  joined  on  the  1st  of 
February,  1750. 

The  satisfaction  I  have  found  in  this  union, 
you  will  suppose  has  been  greatly  heightened  by 
reflection  on  the  former  disagreeable  contrasts  I 
had  passed  through,  and  the  views  I  have  had 
of  the  singular  mercy  and  providence  of  the  Lord 
in  bringing  it  to  pass.  If  you  please  to  look  back 
to  the  beginning  of  my  sixth  letter,  I  doubt  not 


106 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


but  you  will  allow,  that  few  persons  have  known 
more  either  of  the  misery  or  happiness  of  which 
human  life  (as  considered  in  itself)  is  capable. 
How  easily,  at  a  time  of  life  when  I  was  so  little 
capable  of  judging,  (but  a  few  months  more  than 
seventeen,)  might  my  affections  have  been  fixed 
where  they  could  have  met  with  no  return,  or 
where  success  would  have  been  the  heaviest  dis- 
appointment. The  long  delay  I  met  with  was 
likewise  a  mercy ;  for  had  I  succeeded  a  year  01 
two  sooner,  before  the  Lord  was  pleased  tc 
change  my  heart,  we  must  have  been  mutuall) 
unhappy,  even  as  to  the  present  life.  "  Surel) 
mercy  and  goodness  have  followed  me  all  mj 
days!" 

But,  alas  !  I  soon  began  to  feel  that  my  hear 
was  still  hard  and  ungrateful  to  the  God  of  mj 
life.  This  crowning  mercy  which  raised  me  t< 
all  I  could  ask  or  wish  in  a  temporal  view,  an< 
which  ought  to  have  been  an  animating  motivi 
to  obedience  and  praise,  had  a  contrary  effect, 
rested  in  the  gift,  and  forgot  the  Giver.  My  poo 
narrow  heart  was  satisfied.  A  cold  and  careles 
frame,  as  to  spiritual  things,  took  place,  an 
gained  ground  daily.  Happily  for  me  the  seaso 
was  advancing,  and  in  June  I  received  orders  t 
repair  to  Liverpool.  This  roused  me  from  m 
dream.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  found  the  pain 
of  absence  and  separation  fully  proportioned  t 


MARRIAGE. 


107 


my  proceding  pleasure.  It  was  hard,  very  hard 
to  part,  especially  as  conscience  interfered,  and 
suggested  to  me  how  little  I  deserved  that  we 
should  be  spared  to  meet  again.  But  the  Lord 
supported  me.  I  was  a  poor,  faint,  idolatrous 
creature ;  but  I  had  now  some  acquaintance 
with  the  way  of  access  to  a  throne  of  grace 
by  the  blood  of  Jesus ;  and  peace  was  soon  re- 
stored to  my  conscience.  Yet,  through  all  the 
following  voyage  my  irregular  and  excessive  af- 
fections were  as  thorns  in  my  eyes,  and  often 
made  my  other  blessings  tasteless  and  insipid. 
But  He  who  doeth  all  things  well  over-ruled  this 
ikcwise  for  good.  It  became  an  occasion  of 
quickening  me  in  prayer  both  for  my  wife  and 
myself;  it  increased  my  indifference  for  compa- 
ny and  amusement ;  it  habituated  me  to  a  kind 
}f  voluntary  self-denial,  which  I  was  afterward 
aught  to  improve  to  a  better  purpose. 

While  I  remained  in  England  we  corresponded 
?very  post ;  and  all  the  while  I  used  the  sea  af- 
erward,  I  constantly  kept  up  the  practice  of 
vriting  two  or  three  times  a-week,  (if  weather 
ind  business  permitted,)  though  no  conveyance 
lomeward  offered  for  six  or  eight  months  to- 
gether. My  packets  were  usually  heavy  ;  and  as 
lot  one  of  them  at  any  time  miscarried,  I  have 
o  the  amount  of  nearly  two  hundred  sheets  of 
>aper  now  lying  in  my  bureau  of  that  correspond- 


108 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


ence.  I  mention  this  little  relief  by  which  I  con- 
trived to  soften  the  intervals  of  absence,  because 
it  had  a  good  effect  beyond  my  first  intention.  It 
habituated  me  to  think  and  write  upon  a  great 
variety  of  subjects ;  and  I  acquired,  insensibly, 
a  greater  readiness  of  expressing  myself  than  I 
should  otherwise  have  attained.  As  I  gained  more 
ground  in  religious  knowledge,  my  letters  became 
more  serious  ;  and,  at  times,  I  still  find  an  advan- 
tage in  looking  them  over  ;  especially  as  they  re- 
mind me  of  many  providential  incidents,  and  the 
state  of  my  mind  at  different  periods  in  these 
voyages,  which  would  otherwise  have  escaped 
my  memory. 

I  sailed  from  Liverpool  in  August,  1750,  com- 
mander of  a  good  ship.  I  have  no  very  extraor- 
dinary events  to  recount  from  this  period,  and 
shall  therefore  contract  my  memoirs  lest  I  be- 
come tedious:  yet  I  am  willing  to  give  you  a 
brief  sketch  of  my  history  down  to  1755,  the 
year  of  my  settlement  in  my  present  situation. 
I  had  now  the  command  and  care  of  thirty  per- 
sons ;  I  endeavored  to  treat  them  with  humanity, 
and  to  set  them  a  good  example :  I  likewise  es- 
tablished public  worship,  twice  every  Lord's-day, 
officiating  myself.  Farther  than  this  I  did  not 
proceed  while  I  continued  in  that  employment. 

Having  now  much  leisure,  I  prosecuted  the 
study  of  the  Latin  with  good  success.  I  took  a 


FIRST  VOYAGE  AS  CAPTAIN.  109 


dictionary  this  voyage,  and  procured  two  or 
three  other  books;  but  still  it  was  my  hap  to 
choose  the  hardest.  I  added  Juvenal  to  Horace  ; 
and,  for  prose  authors,  I  pitched  upon  Livy,  Caesar 
and  Sallust.  You  will  easily  conceive,  sir,  that  I 
had  hard  work  to  begin  (where  I  should  have  left 
off)  with  Horace  and  Livy.  I  was  not  aware  of 
the  difference  of  style :  I  had  heard  Livy  highly 
commended,  and  I  was  resolved  to  understand 
him.  I  began  with  the  first  page,  and  laid  down 
a  rule,  which  I  seldom  departed  from,  not  to  pro- 
ceed to  a  second  period  till  I  understood  the  first, 
and  so  on.  I  was  often  at  a  stand,  but  seldom 
discouraged :  here  and  there  I  found  a  few  lines 
quite  obstinate,  and  was  forced  to  break  in  upon 
my  rule,  and  give  them  up,  especially  as  my  edi- 
tion had  only  the  text,  without  any  notes  to  as- 
sist me.  But  there  were  not  many  such;  for  be- 
fore the  close  of  that  voyage  I  could  (with  a  few 
exceptions)  read  Livy  from  end  to  end,  almost 
as  readily  as  an  English  author.  And  I  found,  in 
surmounting  this  difficulty,  I  had  surmounted  all 
in  one.  Other  prose  authors,  when  they  came  in 
my  way,  cost  me  little  trouble.  In  short,  in  the 
space  of  two  or  three  voyages  I  became  tolera- 
bly acquainted  with  the  best  classics ;  (I  put  all 
I  have  to  say  upon  this  subject  together :)  I  read 
Terence,  Virgil,  and  several  pieces  of  Cicero,  and 
the  modern  classics,  Buchanan,  Erasmus  and  Cas- 

Ncwton.  -If) 


110 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


simir.  At  length  I  conceived  a  design  of  becom- 
ing a  Ciceronian  myself,  and  thought  it  would  be 
a  fine  thing  indeed  to  write  pure  and  elegant  La- 
tin. I  made  some  essays  toward  it,  but  by  this 
time  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  draw  me  nearer  to 
himself,  and  to  give  me  a  fuller  view  of  the 
"  pearl  of  great  price,"  the  inestimable  treasure 
hid  in  the  field  of  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  and,  for 
the  sake  of  this,  I  was  made  willing  to  part  with 
all  my  newly-acquired  riches.  I  began  to  think 
that  life  was  too  short  (especially  my  life)  to  ad- 
mit of  leisure  for  such  elaborate  trifling.  Neither 
poet  nor  historian  could  tell  me  a  word  of  Jesus, 
and  I  therefore  applied  myself  to  those  who  could. 
The  classics  were  at  first  restrained  to  one  morn- 
ing in  the  week,  and  at  length  quite  laid  aside.  I 
have  not  looked  into  Livy  these  five  years,  and 
I  suppose  I  could  not  now  well  understand  him. 
Some  passages  in  Horace  and  Virgil  I  still  ad- 
mire ;  but  they  seldom  come  in  my  way.  I  pre- 
fer Buchanan's  Psalms  to  a  whole  shelf  of  Elze- 
virs. But  this  much  I  have  gained — and  more 
than  this  I  am  not  solicitous  about — so  much  of 
the  Latin  as  enables  me  to  read  any  useful  or 
curious  book  that  is  published  in  that  language. 
About  the  same  time,  and  for  the  same  reason 
that  I  quarrelled  with  Livy,  I  laid  aside  the  ma- 
thematics. I  found  they  not  only  cost  me  much 
time,  but  engrossed  my  thoughts  too  far ,  my 


FIRST  VOYAGE  AS  CAPTAIN.  Ill 


head  was  literally  full  of  schemes.  I  was  weary 
of  cold  contemplative  truths,  which  can  neither 
warm  nor  amend  the  heart,  but  rather  tend  to 
aggrandize  self.  I  found  no  traces  of  this  wis- 
dom in  the  life  of  Jesus  or  the  writings  of  Paul. 
I  do  not  regret  that  I  have  had  some  opportu- 
nities of  knowing  the  first  principles  of  these 
things ;  but  I  see  much  cause  to  praise  the  Lord 
that  he  inclined  me  to  stop  in  time ;  and,  whilst 
I  was  "  spending  my  labor  for  that  which  is  not 
bread,"  was  pleased  to  set  before  me  f?  wine  and 
milk,  without  money  and  without  price." 

My  first  voyage  was  fourteen  months,  through 
various  scenes  of  danger  and  difficulty,  but  no- 
thing very  remarkable ;  and  as  I  intend  to  br 
more  particular  with  regard  to  the  second,  1 
shall  only  say  that  I  was  preserved  from  every 
harm  $  and  having  seen  many  fall  on  my  right 
hand  and  on  my  left,  I  was  brought  home  in 
peace,  and  restored  to  where  my  thoughts  had 
been  often  directed,  November  2,  1751. 


112 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


LETTER  XII. 

Second  Voyage  to  Africa  as  Commander. 

I  almost  wish  I  could  recall  my  last  sheet, 
and  retract  my  promise.  I  fear  I  have  engaged 
too  far,  and  shall  prove  a  mere  egotist.  What 
have  I  more  that  can  deserve  your  notice  1 
However,  it  is  some  satisfaction  that  I  am  now 
writing  to  yourself  only ;  and  I  believe  you  will 
have  candor  to  excuse  what  nothing  but  a  sense 
of  your  kindness  could  extort  from  me. 

Soon  after  the  period  where  my  last  closes, 
that  is,  in  the  interval  between  my  first  and  se- 
cond voyage  after  my  marriage,  I  began  to  keep 
a  sort  of  diary ;  a  practice  which  I  have  since 
found  of  great  use.  I  had  in  this  interval  re- 
peated proofs  of  the  ingratitude  and  evil  of  my 
heart.  A  life  of  ease  in  trie  midst  of  my  friends, 
and  the  full  satisfaction  of  my  wishes,  was  not 
favorable  to  the  progress  of  grace,  and  afforded 
cause  of  daily  huviiliation.  Yet,  upon  the  whole, 
I  gained  ground.  I  became  acquainted  with  books 
which  gave  mt  a  farther  view  of  christian  doc- 
trine and  experience ;  particularly,  ScougalVs 
Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man,  Hervetfs  Medi- 


ANOTHER  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


113 


tations,  and  the  Life  of  Colonel  Gardiner.  As  to 
preaching,  I  heard  none  but  the  common  sort, 
and  had  hardly  an  idea  of  any  better ;  neither 
had  I  the  advantage  of  christian  acquaintance.  I 
was  likewise  greatly  hindered  by  a  cowardly  re- 
served spirit  j  I  was  afraid  of  being  thought  pre- 
cise ;  and  though  I  could  not  live  without  prayer, 
I  I  durst  not  propose  it  even  to  my  wife,  till  she 
I  herself  first  put  me  upon  it :  so  far  was  I  from 
i  those  expressions  of  zeal  and  love  which  seem 
I  so  suitable  to  the  case  of  one  who  has  had  much 
\  forgiven.   In  a  few  months  the  returning  season 
\  called  me  abroad  again,  and  I  sailed  from  Liver- 
•  pool  in  a  new  ship,  July,  1752. 

A  seafaring  life  is  necessarily  excluded  from 
the  benefit  of  public  ordinances  and  christian 
communion ;  but,  as  I  have  observed,  my  loss 
upon  these  heads  was  at  this  time  but  small.  In 
other  respects,  I  know  not  any  calling  that  seems 
more  favorable,  or  affords  greater  advantages  to 
an  awakened  mind,  for  promoting  the  life  of  God 
in  the  soul ;  especially  to  a  person  who  has  the 
command  of  a  ship,  and  thereby  has  it  in  his 
power  to  restrain  gross  irregularities  in  others, 
and  to  dispose  of  his  own  time ;  and  still  more 
so  in  African  voyages,  as  these  ships  carry  a 
double  proportion  of  men  and  officers  to  most 
others,  which  made  my  department  very  easy ; 
and,  excepting  the  hurry  of  trade,  &c.  upon  the 
10* 


in 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


coast,  which  is  rather  occasional  than  constant, 
afforded  me  abundance  of  leisure.  To  be  at  sea 
in  these  circumstances,  withdrawn  out  of  the 
reach  of  innumerable  temptations,  with  oppor- 
tunity and  turn  of  mind  disposed  to  observe  the 
wonders  of  God  in  the  great  deep  ;  with  the  two 
noblest  objects  of  sight,  the  expanded  heavens 
and  the  expanded  ocean,  continually  in  view ;  and 
where  evident  interpositions  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, in  answer  to  prayer,  occur  almost  every 
day ;  these  are  helps  to  quicken  and  confirm 
the  life  of  faith,  which,  in  a  good  measure,  sup- 
ply to  a  religious  sailor  the  want  of  those  advan- 
tages which  can  be  enjoyed  only  upon  the  shore. 
And,  indeed,  though  my  knowledge  of  spiritual 
things,  as  knowledge  is  usually  estimated,  was  at 
this  time  very  small,  yet  I  sometimes  look  back 
with  regret  upon  these  scenes.  I  never  knew 
sweeter  or  more  frequent  hours  of  divine  com- 
munion than  in  my  last  two  voyages  to  Guinea, 
when  I  was  either  almost  secluded  from  society 
on  shipboard,  or  when  on  shore  amongst  the  na- 
tives. I  have  wandered  through  the  woods,  re- 
flecting on  the  singular  goodness  of  the  Lord  to 
me,  in  a  place  where,  perhaps,  there  was  not  a 
person  that  knew  him  for  some  thousand  miles 
round  me.  Many  a  time,  upon  these  occasions, 
I  have  restored  the  beautiful  lines  of  Propertius 
to  their  right  owner ;  lines  full  of  blasphemy  and 


ANOTHER  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA.  115 


madness  when  addressed  to  a  creature,  but  full 
of  comfort  and  propriety  in  the  mouth  of  a 
believer. 

Sic  ego  desertis  possim  bene  vivere  sylvis, 
duo  nulla  huraano  sit  via  trita  pede  : 
Tu  mini  curarum  requies,  in  nocte  vel  atra 
Lumen,  et  in  solis  tu  mihi  turba  locis. 

PARAPHRASED. 

In  desert  woods,  with  thee,  my  God, 
Where  human  footsteps  never  trod, 

How  happy  could  I  be  ; 
Thou  my  repose  from  care,  my  light 
Amidst  the  darkness  of  the  night, 

In  solitude  my  company. 

In  the  course  of  this  voyage  I  was  wonderfully 
preserved  in  the  midst  of  many  obvious  and 
many  unforeseen  dangers.  At  one  time  there  was 
a  conspiracy  amongst  my  own  people  to  turn  pi- 
rates, and  take  the  ship  from  me.  When  the  plot 
was  nearly  ripe,  and  they  waited  only  a  conve- 
nient opportunity,  two  of  those  concerned  in  it 
were  taken  ill  in  one  day ;  one  of  them  died,  and 
he  was  the  only  person  I  buried  while  on  board. 
This  suspended  the  affair,  and  opened  a  way  to 
its  discovery,  or  the  consequence  might  have 
been  fatal.  The  slaves  on  board  were  likewise 
frequently  plotting  insurrections,  and  were  some- 


116 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


times  upon  the  very  brink  of  mischief;  but  it 
was  always  disclosed  in  due  time.  When  I  have 
thought  myself  most  secure,  I  have  been  sudden- 
ly alarmed  with  danger  ;  and  when  I  have  almost 
despaired  of  life,  as  sudden  a  deliverance  has 
been  vouchsafed  me.  My  stay  upon  the  coast 
was  long,  the  trade  very  precarious  ;  and,  in  pur- 
suit of  my  business,  both  on  board  and  on  shore, 
I  was  in  deaths  often.  Let  the  following  instance 
serve  as  a  specimen: 

I  was  at  a  place  called  Mana,  near  Cape  Mount, 
where  I  had  transacted  very  large  concerns;  and 
had,  at  the  time  I  am  speaking  of,  some  debts 
and  accounts  to  settle  which  required  my  attend- 
ance on  shore,  and  I  intended  to  go  the  next  morn- 
ing. When  I  arose  I  left  the  ship,  according  to 
my  purpose,  but  when  I  came  near  the  shore,  the 
surf,  or  breach  of  the  sea  ran  so  high  that  I  was 
almost  afraid  to  attempt  landing:  indeed  I  had  of- 
ten ventured  at  a  worse  time  ;  but  I  felt  an  inward 
hinderance  and  backwardness,  which  I  could 
not  account  for  :  the  surf  furnished  a  pretext  for 
indulging  it ;  and  after  waiting  and  hesitating  for 
about  half  an  hour,  I  returned  to  the  ship  without 
doing  my  business ;  which  I  think  I  never  did 
but  that  morning  in  all  the  time  I  used  that  trade. 
But  I  soon  perceived  the  reason  of  all  this :  It 
seems,  the  day  before  I  intended  to  land,  a  scan- 
dalous and  groundless  charge  had  been  laid 


ANOTHER  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


117 


against  me,  (by  whose  instigation  I  could  never 
learn,)  which  greatly  threatened  my  honor  and 
interest,  both  in  Africa  and  England,  and  would 
perhaps,  humanly  speaking,  have  affected  my 
life,  if  I  had  landed  according  to  my  intention.  I 
shall,  perhaps,  enclose  a  letter  which  will  give  a 
full  account  of  this  strange  adventure  ;  and  there- 
fore shall  say  no  more  of  it  here,  any  further  than 
to  tell  you  that  an  attempt,  aimed  to  destroy 
either  my  life  or  character,  and  which  might,  very 
probably,  in  its  consequences,  have  ruined  my 
voyage,  passed  off  without  the  least  inconveni- 
ence. The  person  most  concerned  owed  me  about 
a  hundred  pounds,  which  he  sent  me  in  a  huff; 
and  otherwise,  perhaps,  would  not  have  paid  me 
at  all.  I  was  very  uneasy  for  a  few  hours,  but 
was  soon  afterward  comforted.  I  heard  no  more 
of  my  accusation  till  the  next  vOyage  ;  and  then 
it  was  publicly  acknowledged  to  be  a  malicious 
calumny,  without  the  least  shadow  of  a  ground. 

Such  were  the  vicissitude^  and  difficulties 
through  which  the  Lord  preserved  me.  Now  and 
then  both  faith  and  patience  were  sharply  exer- 
cised ;  but  suitable  strength  was  given ;  and  as 
such  things  did  not  occur  every  day,  the  study 
of  the  Latin,  of  which  I  gave  a  general  account 
in  my  last,  was  renewed,  and  carried  on  from 
time  to  time  when  business  would  permit.  I  was 
mostly  very  regular  in  the  management  of  my 


118 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


time ;  I  allotted  eight  hours  for  sleep  and  meals, 
eight  hours  for  excerise  and  devotion,  and  eight 
hours  to  my  books :  and  thus,  by  diversifying  my 
engagements,  the  whole  day  was  agreeably  fill- 
ed up ;  and  I  seldom  found  a  day  too  long,  or  an 
hour  to  spare.  My  studies  kept  me  employed; 
and  so  far  it  was  well ;  otherwise  they  were 
hardly  worth  the  time  they  cost,  as  they  led  me 
to  an  admiration  of  false  models  and  false  max- 
ims ;  an  almost  unavoidable  consequence  (I 
suppose)  of  an  admiration  of  classic  authors. 
Abating  what  I  have  attained  of  the  language,  I 
think  I  might  have  read  Cassandra  or  Cleopatra 
to  as  good  purpose  as  I  read  Livy,  whom  I  now 
account  an  equal  romancer,  though  in  a  different 
way. 

From  the  coast  I  went  to  St.  Christopher's; 
and  here  my  idolatrous  heart  was  its  own  punish- 
ment. The  letters  I  expected'  from  Mrs.  Newton 
were  by  mistake  forwarded  to  Antigua,  which 
had  been  at  first  proposed  as  our  port.  As  I  was 
certain  of  her  punctuality  in  writing,  if  alive,  1 
concluded,  by  not  hearing  from  her,  that  she  was 
surely  dead.  This  fear  affected  me  more  and 
more ;  I  lost  my  appetite  and  rest ;  I  felt  an  in- 
cessant pain  in  my  stomach;  and  in  about  three 
weeks  time  I  was  near  sinking  under  the  weight 
of  an  imaginary  stroke.  I  felt  some  severe  symp- 
toms of  that  mixture  of  pride  and  madness  which 


ANOTHER  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA.  119 

is  commonly  called  a  broken  heart;  and  indeed  I 
wonder  that  this  case  is  not  more  common  than 
it  appears  to  be.  How  often  do  the  potsherds  of 
the  earth  presume  to  contend  with  their  Maker ! 
and  what  a  wonder  of  mercy  is  it  that  they  are 
not  all  broken  !    However,  my  complaint  was 
not  all  grief;  conscience  had  a  share.  I  thought 
t  my  unfaithfulness  to  God  had  deprived  me  of 
t  her,  especially  my  backwardness  in  speaking  of 
|  spiritual  things,  which  I  could  hardly  attempt, 
|  even  to  her.  It  was  this  thought,  that  I  had  lost 
invaluable,  irrecoverable    opportunities,  which 
both  duty  and  affection  should  have  engaged  me 
i  to  improve,  that  chiefly  stung  me ;  and  I  thought 
<  I  would  have  given  the  world  to  know  that  she 
was  living,  that  I  might  at  least  discharge  my 
engagements  by  writing,  though  I  was  never  to 
see  her  again.   This  was  a  sharp  lesson ;  but  I 
hope  it  did  me  good ;  and  when  I  had  thus  suf- 
fered some  weeks,  I  thought  of  sending  a  small 
vessel  to  Antigua.  I  did  so ;  and  she  brought  me 
several  packets ;  which  restored  my  health  and 
oeace,  and  gave  me  a  strong  contrast  of  the 
Lord's  goodness  to  me,  and  my  unbelief  and  in- 
gratitude towards  him. 

In  August,  1753, 1  returned  to  Liverpool.  My 
>tay  was  very  short  at  home  that  voyage — only 
4x  weeks.  In  that  space  nothing  very  memorable 
>ccurred ;  I  shall  therefore  begin  my  next  with 


120 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


an  account  of  my  third  and  last  voyage.  And 
thus  I  give  both  you  and  myself  hopes  of  a  speedy 
period  to  these  memoirs,  which  begin  to  be  te- 
dious and  minute  even  to  myself ;  only  I  am  ani- 
mated by  the  thought  that  I  write  at  your  re- 
quest ;  and  have  therefore  an  opportunity  of 
showing  myself  Yours,  &c. 


LETTER  XIII. 


Third,  and  last  Voyage  to  Africa. — Sickness. — Religious 
experience. 


My  third  voyage  was  shorter  and  less  per- 
plexed than  eifher^of  my  former.  Before  I  sailed 
I  met  with  a  young  man  who  had  formerly  been 
a  midshipman,  and  my  intimate  companion  on 
board  the  Harwich.  He  was,  at  the  time  I  first 
knew  him,  a  sober  youth ;  but  I  had  found  too 
much  success  in  my  unhappy  attempts  to  infect 
him  with  libertine  principles.  When  we  met  at 
Liverpool  our  acquaintance  was  renewed  upon 
the  ground  of  our  former  intimacy.  He  had  good 
sense,  and  had  read  many  good  books.  Our  con- 
versation frequently  turned  upon  religion ;  and 


LAST  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


121 


I  was  very  desirous  to  repair  the  mischief  I  had 
done  him.  I  gave  him  a  plain  account  of  the 
manner  and  reason  of  my  change,  and  used 
every  argument  to  persuade  him  to  relinquish 
his  infidel  schemes ;  and  when  I  sometimes 
pressed  him  so  close  that  he  had  no  other  reply 
to  make,  he  would  remind  me  that  I  was  the  very 
first  person  who  had  given  him  an  idea  of  his 
liberty.  This  occasioned  me  many  mournful  re- 
flections. He  was  then  going  master  to  Guinea 
himself ;  but  before  his  ship  was  ready  his  mer- 
chant became  a  bankrupt,  which  disconcerted  his 
voyage.  As  he  had  no  farther  expectations  for 
that  year,  I  offered  to  take  him  with  me  as  a 
companion,  that  he  might  gain  a  knowledge  of 
the  coast ;  and  the  gentleman  who  employed  me 
promised  to  provide  for  him  upon  his  return.  My 
view  in  this  was  not  so  much  to  serve  him  in  his 
business,  as  to  have  an  opportunity  of  debating 
the  point  with  him  at  leisure ;  and  I  hoped,  in 
the  course  of  my  voyage,  my  arguments,  exam- 
pie  and  prayers,  might  have  some  good  effect 
on  him.  My  intention  in  this  step  was  better 
than  my  judgment ;  and  I  had  frequent  reason  to 
repent  it.  He  was  exceedingly  profane,  and 
grew  worse  and  worse.  I  saw  in  him  a  most 
lively  picture  of  what  I  had  once  been ;  but  it 
was  very  inconvenient  to  have  it  always  before 
my  eyes.  Besides,  he  was  not  only  deaf  to  me 

Newton.  1  1 


122 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


remonstrances  himself,  but  labored  all  he  could 
to  counteract  my  influence  upon  others.  His 
spirit  and  passions  were  likewise  exceedingly 
high  ;  so  that  it  required  all  my  prudence  and 
authority  to  hold  him  in  any  degree  of  restraint. 
He  was  as  a  sharp  thorn  in  my  side  for  some 
time ;  but  at  length  I  had  an  opportunity  upon 
the  coast  of  buying  a  small  vessel,  which  I  sup- 
plied with  a  cargo  from  my  own,  and  gave  him 
the  command,  and  sent  him  away  to  trade  on  the 
ship's  account.  When  we  parted,  I  repeated  and 
enforced  my  best  advice.  I  believe  his  friend- 
ship and  regard  were  as  great  as  could  be  ex- 
pected, when  our  principles  were  so  diametrical- 
ly opposite.  He  seemed  greatly  affected  when  I 
left  him  :  but  my  words  had  no  weight  with  him ; 
when  he  found  himself  at  liberty  from  under  my 
eye,  he  gave  a  hasty  loose  to  every  appetite  ;  and 
his  violent  irregularities,  joined  to  the  heat  of 
the  climate,  soon  threw  him  into  a  malignant 
fever,  which  carried  him  off  in  a  few  days.  He 
died  convinced,  but  not  changed.  The  accounts 
I  had  from  those  who  were  with  him  were  dread- 
ful. His  rage  and  despair  struck  them  all  with 
horror  ;  and  he  pronounced  his  own  fatal  doom 
before  he  expired,  without  any  appearance  that 
he  either  hoped  or  asked  for  mercy.  I  thought 
this  awful  contrast  might  not  be  improper  to 
give  you,  as  a  stronger  view  of  the  distinguish- 


LAST  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


123 


ing  goodness  of  God  to  me,  the  chief  of  sinners. 

I  left  the  const  in  about  four  months,  and  sailed 
for  St.  Christopher's.  Hitherto  I  had  enjoyed  a 
perfect  state  of  health,  equally  in  every  climate, 
for  several  years ;  but  upon  this  passage  I  was 
visited  with  a  fever,  which  gave  me  a  very  near 
prospect  of  eternity.  I  have  obtained  liberty  to 
enclose  you  three  or  four  letters,  which  will  more 
clearly  illustrate  the  state  and  measure  of  my  ex- 
perience at  different  times  than  any  thing  I  can 
say  at  present.  One  of  them,  you  will  find,  was 
written  at  this  period,  when  I  could  hardly  hold 
a  pen,  and  had  some  reason  to  believe  I  should 
write  no  more.  I  had  not  that  "  full  assurance" 
which  is  so  desirable  at  a  time  when  flesh  and 
heart  fail}  but  my  hopes  were  greater  than  my 
fears  j  and  I  felt  a  silent  composure  of  spirit, 
which  enabled  me  to  wait  the  event  without  much 
anxiety.  My  trust,  though  weak  in  degree,  was 
alone  fixed  upon  the  blood  and  righteousness  of 
Jesus;  and  those  words,  "  He  is  able  to  save  to 
the  uttermost,"  gave  me  great  relief.  I  was  for  a 
while  troubled  with  a  very  singular  thought ; 
whether  it  was  a  temptation,  or  that  the  fever 
disordered  my  faculties,  I  cannot  say  ;J)ut  I  seem- 
ed not  so  much  afraid  of  wrath  and  punishment, 
as  of  being  lost  and  overlooked  amidst  the  my- 
riads that  are  continually  entering  the  unseen 
world.  What  is  my  soul,  thought  I,  amongst  such 


124  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

an  innumerable  multitude  of  beings  1  and  this 
troubled  me  greatly.  Perhaps  the  Lord  will  take 
no  notice  of  me.  I  was  perplexed  thus  for  some 
time ;  but  at  last  a  text  of  Scripture,  very  appo- 
site to  the  case,  occurred  to  my  mind,  and  put 
an  end  to  the  doubt :  "  The  Lord  knoweth  them 
that  are  his."  In  about  ten  days,  beyond  the  hope 
of  those  about  me,  I  began  to  amend ;  and  by  the 
time  of  our  arrival  in  the  West  Indies  I  was  per- 
fectly recovered.  I  hope  this  visitation  was  made 
useful  to  me. 

Thus  far,  that  is,  for  about  the  space  of  six 
years,  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  lead  me  in  a  se- 
cret way.  I  had  learned  somethirfg  of  the  evil 
of  my  heart ;  I  had  read  the  Bible  over  and  over, 
with  several  good  books,  and  had  a  general  view 
of  Gospel-truths ;  but  my  conceptions  were,  in 
many  respects,  confused,  not  having  in  all  this 
time  met  with  one  acquaintance  who  could  assist 
my  inquiries.  But  upon  my  arrival  at  St.  Chris- 
topher's, on  this  voyage,  I  found  a  captain  of  a 
ship  from  London,  whose  conversation  was  great- 
ly helpful  to  me.  He  was  and  is  a  member  of 
Mr.  Brewer's  church,  a  man  of  experience  in  the 
things  of  God,  and  of  a  lively  communicative 
turn.  We  discovered  each  other  by  some  casual 
expressions  in  mixed  company,  and  soon  became, 
so  far  as  business  would  permit,  inseparable.  For 
nearly  a  month  we  spent  every  evening  together 


LAST  VOYAGE  TO  AFRICA. 


125 


on*  board  each  other's  ship  alternately,  and  often 
prolonged  our  visits  till  toward  day-break.  I  was 
all  ear ;  and,  what  was  better,  he  not  only  in- 
formed my  understanding,  but  his  discourse  in- 
flamed my  heart.  He  encouraged  me  to  open  my 
mouth  in  social  prayer  5  he  taught  me  the  advan- 
tage of  christian  converse ;  he  put  me  upon  an 
attempt  to  make  my  profession  more  public,  and 
to  venture  to  speak  for  God.  From  him,  or  ra- 
ther from  the  Lord  by  his  means,  I  received  an 
increase  of  knowledge  :  my  conceptions  became 
clearer  and  more  evangelical ;  and  I  was  delivered 
from  a  fear  which  had  long  troubled  me — the  fear 
of  relapsing  into  my  former  apostacy.  But  now 
I  began  to  understand  the  security  of  the  cove- 
nant of  grace,  and  to  expect  to  be  preserved,  not 
by  my  own  power  and  holiness,  but  by  the  migh- 
ty power  and  promise  of  God,  through  faith  in 
an  unchangeable  Savior.  He  likewise  gave  me  a 
general  view  of  the  state  of  religion,  with  the 
errors  and  controversies  of  the  times,  (things  to 
which  I  had  been  entirely  a  stranger,)  and  finally 
directed  me  where  to  apply  in  London  for  fur- 
ther instruction.  With  these  newly-acquired  ad- 
vantages, I  left  him,  and  my  passage  homeward 
gave  me  leisure  to  digest  what  I  had  received.  I 
had  much  comfort  and  freedom  during  those  se- 
ven weeks,  and  my  sun  was  seldom  clouded.  I 
arrived  safely  in  Liverpool,  August,  1754?. 
11* 


126 


LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


My  stay  at  home  was  intended  to  be  but  short ; 
and  by  the  beginning  of  November  I  was  again 
ready  for  the  sea ;  but  the  Lord  saw  fit  to  over 
rule  my  design.  During  the  time  I  was  engaged 
in  the  slave-trade  I  never  had  the  least  scruple 
as  to  its  lawfulness.  I  was,  upon  the  whole,  sa- 
tisfied with  it,  as  the  appointment  Providence 
had  marked  out  for  me ;  yet  it  was,  in  many  re- 
spects, far  from  eligible.  I  tw^s,  indeed,  account- 
ed a  genteel  employment,  and  usually  very  pro- 
fitable, though  to  me  it  did  not  prove  so,  the  Lord 
seeing  that  a  large  increase  of  wealth  would  not 
be  good  for  me.  However,  I  considered  myself  as 
a  sort  of  jailer  or  turnkey,  and  I  was  sometimes 
shocked  with  an  employment  that  was  perpe- 
tually conversant  with  chains,  bolts  and  shackles. 
In  this  view  I  had  often  petitioned,  in  my  prayers, 
that  the  Lord,  in  his  own  time,  would  be  pleased 
to  fix  me  in  a  more  humane  calling,  and,  if  it 
might  be,  place  me  where  I  might  have  more  fre- 
quent converse  with  his  people  and  ordinances, 
and  be  freed  from  those  long  separations  from 
home,  which  very  often  were  hard  to  bear.  My 
prayers  were  now  answered,  though  in  a  way  I 
little  expected.  I  now  experienced  another  sud- 
den, unforeseen  change  of  life.  I  was  within  two 
days  of  sailing,  and,  to  all  appearance,  in  as  good 
health  as  usual ;  but  in  the  afternoon,  as  I  was 
sitting  with  Mrs.  Newton,  drinking  tea  by  our- 


FOURTH  VOYAGE  PREVENTED. 


127 


selves,  and  talking  over  past  events,  1  was  in  a 
moment  seized  with  a  fit  which  deprived  me  of 
sense  and  motion,  and  left  me  no  other  sign  of 
life  than  that  of  breathing.  I  suppose  it  was  of  the 
apoplectic  kind.  It  lasted  about  an  hour;  and 
when  I  recovered,  it  left  a  pain  and  dizziness  in 
my  head,  which  continued,  with  such  symptoms 
as  induced  the  physicians  to  judge  it  would  not 
be  safe  or  prudent  for  me  to  proceed  on  the 
voyage.  Accordingly,  by  the  advice  of  my  friend 
to  whom  the  ship  belonged,  I  resigned  the  com- 
mand the  day  before  she  sailed ;  and  thus  I  was 
unexpectedly  called  from  that  service,  and  freed 
from  a  share  of  the  future  consequences  of  that 
voyage,  which  proved  extremely  calamitous.  The 
person  who  went  in  my  room,  most  of  the  officers, 
and  many  of  the  crew  died,  and  the  vessel  was 
brought  home  with  great  difficulty. 

As  I  was  now  disengaged  from  business,  I  left 
Liverpool,  and  spent  most  of  the  following  year 
at  London  and  in  Kent.  But  I  entered  upon  a 
new  trial.  You  will  easily  conceive  that  Mrs. 
Newton  was  not  an  unconcerned  spectator  when 
I  lay  extended,  and,  as  she  thought,  expiring, 
upon  the  ground.  In  effect,  the  blow  that  struck 
me  reached  her  in  the  same  instant :  she  did  not 
indeed  immediately  feel  it,  till  her  apprehensions 
on  my  account  began  to  subside ;  but  as  I  grew 
better,  she  became  worse:  her  surprise  threw 


1'28 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


her  into  a  disorder  which  no  physicians  could 
define,  or  medicines  remove.  Without  any  of  the 
ordinary  symptoms  of  a  consumption,  she  decay- 
ed almost  visibly,  till  she  became  so  weak  that 
she  could  hardly  bear  any  one  to  walk  across  the 
room  she  was  in.  I  was  placed,  for  about  eleven 
months,  in  what  Dr.  Young  calls  the 

 dreadful  post  of  observation, 

Darker  every  hour. 

It  was  not  till  after  my  settlement  at  Liver- 
pool that  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  restore  her 
by  his  own  hand,  when  all  hopes  from  ordinary 
means  were  at  an  end.  But  before  this  took 
place  I  have  some  other  particulars  to  mention, 
which  must  be  the  subject  of  the  following 
sheet,  which  I  hope  will  be  the  last  on  this  sub- 
ject from,  &c. 


IN  ENGLAND. 


129 


LETTER  XIV. 

Sichiess  of  Airs.  Newton. — Rural  devotions. — Residence  in 
Liverpool. — Studies  Greek  and  Hebrew. —  Is  refused  ordi- 
nation. 

By  the  directions  I  had  received  from  my 
friend  at  St.  Kitts,  I  soon  found  out  a  religious 
tcquaintance  in  London.  I  first  applied  to  Mr. 
Brewer,  and  chiefly  attended  upon  his  ministry 
when  in  town.  From  him  I  received  many  helps, 
both  in  public  and  private;  for  he  was  pleased 
to  favor  me  with  his  friendship  from  the  first. 
His  kindness  and  the  intimacy  between  us  has 
continued  and  increased  to  this  day;  and  of  all 
my  many  friends,  I  am  most  deeply  indebted  to 
him.  The  late  Mr.  H  d  was  my  second  ac- 
quaintance, a  man  of  a  choice  spirit,  and  an 
abundant  zeal  for  the  Lord's  service.  I  enjoyed 
his  correspondence  till  near  the  time  of  his 
death.  Soon  after,  upon  Mr.  Whitefield's  return 
from  America,  my  two  good  friends  introduced 
me  to  him ;  and  though  I  had  little  personal  ac- 
quaintance with  him  till  afterward,  his  ministry 
was  exceedingly  useful  to  me.  I  had  likewise 
access  to  some  religious  societies,  and  became 
known  to  many  excellent  christians  in  private 


130 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


life.  Thus,  when  at  London,  I  lived  at  the  foun- 
tain-head, as  it  were,  for  spiritual  advantages. 
When  I  was  in  Kent  it  was  very  different;  yet 
I  found  some  serious  persons  there ;  but  the 
fine  variegated  woodland  country  afforded  me 
advantages  of  another  kind.  Most  of  my  time, 
at  least  some  hours  every  day,  I  passed  in  retire- 
ment, when  the  weather  was  fair ;  sometimes  in 
the  thickest  woods,  sometimes  on  the  highest 
hills,  where  almost  every  step  varied  the  pros- 
pect. It  has  been  my  custom,  for  many  years,  to 
perform  my  devotional  exercises  sub  die,  when  I 
have  opportunity ;  and  I  always  find  these  rural 
scenes  have  some  tendency  both  to  refresh  and 
to  compose  my  spirits.  A  beautiful  diversified 
prospect  gladdens  my  heart.  When  I  am  with- 
drawn from  the  noise  and  petty  works  of  men, 
I  consider  myself  as  in  the  great  temple  which 
the  Lord  has  built  for  his  own  honor. 

The  country  between  Rochester  and  Maid- 
stone, bordering  upon  the  Medway,  was  well 
suited  to  the  turn  of  my  mind ;  and  were  I  to  go 
over  it  now,  I  could  point  to  many  a  place  where 
I  remember  to  have  either  earnestly  sought,  or 
happily  found,  the  Lord's  comfortable  presence 
with  my  soul.  And  thus  I  lived,  sometimes  at 
London,  and  sometimes  in  the  country,  till  the 
autumn  of  the  following  year.  All  this  while  I 
had  two  trials  more  or  less  upon  my  mind :  the 


IN  ENGLAND. 


131 


irst  and  principal  was  Mrs.  Newton's  illness; 
>he  still  grew  worse,  and  I  had  daily  more  rea- 
son to  fear  that  the  hour  of  separation  was  at 
land.  When  faith  was  in  exercise,  I  was  in  some 
neasure  resigned  to  the  Lord's  will ;  but  too 
)ften  my  heart  rebelled,  and  I  found  it  hard 
;ither  to  trust  or  to  submit.  I  had  likewise 
;ome  care  about  my  future  settlement ;  the  Afri- 
can trade  was  overdone  that  year,  and  my  friends 
lid  not  care  to  fit  out  another  ship  till  mine 

.  eturned.  I  was  some  time  in  suspense  ;  but  in- 
leed  a  provision  of  food  and  raiment  has  seldom 
>een  a  cause  of  great  solicitude  to  me.  I  found 
t  easier  to  trust  the  Lord  in  this  point  than  in 
he  former;  and  accordingly  this  was  first  an- 
wered.  In  August  I  received  notice  that  I  was 
lominated  to  the  office  of  tide-surveyor.  These 
>laces  are  usually  obtained,  or  at  least  sought, 
>y  dint  of  much  interest  and  application ;  but 
his  came  to  me  unsought  and  unexpected.  I 

,  ,:new,  indeed,  my  good  friends  in  Liverpool  had 
mdeavored  to  procure  another  post  for  me,  but 
ound  it  pre-engaged.  I  found,  afterward,  that 
he  place  I  had  missed  would  have  been  very 
msuitable  for  me  ;  and  that  this,  which  I  had  no 
nought  of,  was  the  very  thing  I  could  have 
wished  for,  as  it  afforded  me  much  leisure  and 
he  liberty  of  living  in  my  own  way.  Several 
ircumstances,  unnoticed  by  others,  concurred 


132  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


to  show  me  that  the  good  hand  of  the  Lord  was 
as  remarkably  concerned  in  this  event,  as  in  any 
other  leading  turn  of  my  life. 

But  when  I  gained  this  point,  my  distress  in 
the  other  was  doubled ;  I  was  obliged  to  leave 
Mrs.  Newton  in  the  greatest  extremity  of  pain 
and  illness,  when  the  physicians  could  do  no 
more,  and  I  had  no  ground  of  hope  that  I  should 
see  her  again  alive,  but  this— that  nothing  is  im- 
possible with  the  Lord.  I  had  a  severe  conflict ; 
but  faith  prevailed :  I  found  the  promise  remark- 
ably fulfilled,  of  strength  proportioned  to  my 
need.  The  day  before  I  set  out,  and  not  till  then, 
the  burden  was  entirely  taken  from  my  mind  j  I 
was  strengthened  to  resign  both  her  and  myself 
to  the  Lord's  disposal,  and  departed  from  her  in 
a  cheerful  frame.  Soon  after  I  was  gone  she 
began  to  amend,  and  recovered  so  fast,  that  in 
about  two  months  I  had  the  pleasure  to  meet 
her  at  Stone,  on  her  journey  to  Liverpool. 

And  now  I  think  I  have  answered,  if  not  ex- 
ceeded your  desire.  Since  October,  1755,  we 
have  been  comfortably  settled  at  Liverpool :  and 
all  my  circumstances  have  been  as  remarkably 
smooth  and  uniform,  as  they  were  various  in  for- 
mer years;  My  trials  have  been  light  and  few; 
not  but  that  I  still  find,  in  the  experience  of  every 
day,  the  necessity  of  a  life  of  faith.  My  princi- 
pal trial  is,  the  body  of  sin  and  death,  which 


RESIDENCE  AT  LIVERPOOL. 


133 


makes  me  often  to  sigh  out  the  apostle's  com- 
plaint :  tf  0  wretched  man !"  but  with  him  like- 
wise I  can  say,  "  1  thank  God,  through  Jesus 
Christ  my  Lord."  I  live  in  a  barren  land,  where 
the  knowledge  and  power  of  the  Gospel  is  very 
low ;  yet  here  are  a  few  of  the  Lord's  people  ; 
and  this  wilderness  has  been  a  useful  school  to 
me,  where  I  have  studied  more  leisurely  the 
truths  I  gathered  up  in  London.  I  brought  down 
with  me  a  considerable  stock  of  notional  truth  j 
but  I  have  since  found  that  there  is  no  effectual 
teacher  but  God  ;  that  we  can  receive  no  farther 
than  he  is  pleased  to  communicate ;  and  that  no 
knowledge  is  truly  useful  to  me  but  what  is  made 
my  own  by  experience.  Many  things  I  thought 
I  had  learned,  wrould  not  stand  in  an  hour  of 
temptation,  till  I  had  in  this  way  learned  them 
over  again.  Since  the  year  1757  I  have  had  an 
increasing  acquaintance  in  the  West-riding  of 
Yorkshire,  where  the  Gospel  flourishes  greatly. 
This  has  been  a  good  school  to  me :  I  have  con- 
versed at  large  among  all  parties,  without  joining 
any ;  and  in  my  attempts  to  hit  the  golden  mean, 
I  have  sometimes  been  drawn  too  near  the  differ- 
ent extremes ;  yet  the  Lord  has  enabled  me  to 
profit  by  my  mistakes.  In  brief,  I  am  still  a 
learner,  and  the  Lord  still  condescends  to  teach 
me.  I  begin  at  length  to  see  that  I  have  attain- 
ed but  very  little  ;  but  I  trust  in  him  to  carry 

Newton.  1 0 


134 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


on  his  own  work  in  my  soul,  and,  by  all  the  dis- 
pensations of  his  grace  and  providence,  to  in- 
crease my  knowledge  of  him  and  of  myself. 

When  I  was  fixed  in  a  house,  and  found  my 
business  would  afford  me  much  leisure  time,  I 
considered  in  what  manner  I  should  improve  it. 
And  now,  having  reason  to  close  with  the  apos- 
tle's determination,  ft  to  know  nothing  but  Jesus 
Christ  and  him  crucified,"  I  devoted  my  life  to 
the  prosecution  of  spiritual  knowledge,  and  re- 
solved to  pursue  nothing  but  in  subservience  to 
this  main  design.  This  resolution  divorced  me 
(as  I  have  already  hinted)  from  the  classics  and 
mathematics.  My  first  attempt  was  to  learn  so 
much  Greek  as  would  enable  me  to  understand 
the  New  Testament  and  Septuagint :  and  when 
I  had  made  some  progress  this  way,  I  entered 
upon  the  Hebrew  the  following  year ;  and  two 
years  afterward,  having  surmised  some  advan- 
tages from  the  Syriac  version,  I  began  with  that 
language.  You  must  not  think  that  I  have  attain- 
ed, or  ever  aimed  at,  a  critical  skill  in  any  of 
these:  I  had  no  business  with  them,  but  as  in 
reference  to  something  else.  I  never  read  one 
classic  author  in  the  Greek ;.  I  thought  it  too  late 
in  life  to  take  such  a  round  in  this  language  as  I 
had  done  in  the  Latin.  I  only  wanted  the  signi- 
fication of  scriptural  words  and  phrases  ;  and  for 
this  I  thought  I  might  avail  myself  of  Scapula, 


RESIDENCE  AT  LIVERPOOL. 


135 


he  Synopsis,  and  others,  who  had  sustained  the 
Irudgery  before  me.  In  the  Hebrew  I  can  read 
.he  historical  books  and  psalms  with  tolerable 
3ase  ;  but  in  the  prophetical  and  difficult  parts  I 
im  frequently  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  lexi- 
ons,  <fec.  However,  I  know  so  much  as  to  be 
ible,  with  such  helps  as  are  at  hand,  to  judge  for 
nyself  the  meaning  of  any  passage  I  have  occa- 
sion to  consult.  Beyond  this  I  do  not  think  of 
iroceeding,  if  I  can  find  better  employment ;  for 
L  would  rather  be  some  way  useful  to  others,  than 
lie  with  the  reputation  of  an  eminent  linguist. 

Together  with  these  studies  I  have  kept  up  a 
course  of  reading  of  the  best  writers  in  divinity 
;hat  have  come  to  my  hand,  in  the  Latin  and 
English  tongues,  and  some  French  (for  I  picked 
ip  the  French  at  times  while  I  used  the  sea.) 
But  within  these  two  or  three  years  I  have 
iccustomed  myself  chiefly  to  writing,  and  have 
lot  found  time  to  read  many  books  beside  the 
Scriptures. 

I  am  the  more  particular  in  this  account,  as 
my  case  has  been  something  singular ;  for  in  all 
my  literary  attempts  I  have  been  obliged  to  strike 
□ut  my  own  path,  by  the  light  I  could  acquire 
from  books,  as  I  have  not  had  a  teacher  or  assist- 
ant since  I  was  ten  years  of  age. 

One  word  concerning  my  views  to  the  ministry, 
and  I  have  done.   I  have  told  you  that  this  was 


136 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


my  dear  mother's  hope  concerning  me;  but  her 
death,  and  the  scenes  of  life  in  which  I  afterward 
engaged,  seemed  to  cut  off  the  probability.  The 
first  desires  of  this  sort  in  my  own  mind  arose 
many  years  ago,  from  a  reflection  on  Gal.  1  :  23, 
24,  w  But  they  had  heard  only,  that  he  which  per- 
secuted us  in  times  past,  now  preached  the  faith 
which  once  he  destroyed.  And  they  glorified 
God  in  me."  I  could  not  but  wish  for  such  a 
public  opportunity  to  testify  the  riches  of  divine 
grace.  I  thought  I  was,  above  most  living,  a  fit 
person  to  proclaim  that  faithful  saying,  u  That 
Jesus  Christ  came  into  the.  world  to  save  the 
chief  of  sinners;"  and  as  my  life  had  been  full  of 
remarkable  turns,  and  I  seemed  selected  to  show 
what  the  Lord  could  do,  I  was  in  some  hopes 
that  perhaps,  sooner  or  later,  he  might  call  me 
into  his  service. 

I  believe  it  was  a  distant  hope  of  this  that  de- 
termined me  to  study  the  original  Scriptures; 
but  it  remained  an  imperfect  desire  in  my  own 
breast,  till  it  was  recommended  to  me  by  some 
christian  friends.  I  started  at  the  thought  when 
first  seriously  proposed  to  me ;  but  afterward  sei 
apart  some  weeks  to  consider  the  case,  to  con- 
sult my  friends,  and  to  entreat  the  Lord's  direc 
tion.  The  judgment  of  my  friends,  and  man} 
things  that  occurred,  tended  to  engage  me.  M) 
first  thought  was  to  join  the  Dissenters,  from  i 


RESIDENCE  AT  LIVERPOOL. 


137 


presumption  that  I  could  not  honestly  make  the 
required  subscriptions:  but  Mr.  C  ,  in  a  con- 
versation upon  these  points,  moderated  my  scru- 
ples;  and  preferring  the  Established  Church  in 
some  other  respects,  I  accepted  a  title  from  him 
some  months  afterward,  and  solicited  ordination 
from  the  late  Archbishop  of  York.  I  need  not 
tell  you  I  met  a  refusal,  nor  what  steps  I  took  af- 
terward to  succeed  elsewhere.  At  present  (1763) 
I  desist  from  my  applications.  My  desire  to 
serve  the  Lord  is  not  weakened ;  but  I  am  not  so 
hasty  to  push  myself  forward  as  I  was  formerly. 
It  is  sufficient  that  he  knows  how  to  dispose  of 
me,  and  that  he  both  can  and  will  do  what  is 
best.  To  him  I  commend  myself ;  I  trust  that  his 
will  and  my  true  interest  are  inseparable.  To  his 
name  be  glory  for  ever.  And  thus  I  conclude  my 
story,  and  presume  you  will  acknowledge  I  have 
been  particular  enough. 


12* 


138 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


CONTINUATION  OF  THE  MEMOIR 
BY  REV.  RICHARD  CECIL- 

Employment  at  Liverpool. — Ministerial  Labors  at  Olney  six- 
teen years. — Acquaintance  with  J.  Thornton,  Esq.  the  poet 
Cowper  and  Dr.  Scott. — Publications  at  Olney. — Removal 
to  St.  Mary  Woolnoth,  London,  1779. — Acquaintance  with 
Dr.  Buchanan. — Death  of  Mrs.  Newton. — Fruitfulncss  in 
old  age. — Death. 

Mr.  Manesty,  who  had  long  been  a  faithful  and 
generous  friend  of  Mr.  Newton,  procured  him 
the  place  of  tide-surveyor  in  the  port  of  Liver- 
pool. Mr.  Newton  gives  the  following  account 
of  it : — "  I  entered  upon  business  yesterday.  I 
find  my  duty  is  to  attend  the  tides  one  week,  and 
visit  the  ships  that  arrive,  and  such  as  are  in  the 
river ;  and  the  other  week  to  inspect  the  vessels 
in  the  docks ;  and  thus  alternately  the  year  round 
The  latter  is  little  more  than  a  sinecure,  but  thu 
former  requires  pretty  constant  attendance,  both 
by  day  and  night.  I  have  a  good  office,  with  firo 
and  candle,  and  fifty  or  sixty  people  under  my 
direction  ;  with  a  handsome  six-oared  boat  and  ? 
cockswain  to  row  me  about  in  form."  Letters  to 
a  Wife,  vol.  2.  p.  7. 

We  cannot  wonder  that  Mr.  Newton  latterly 
retained  a  strong  impression  of  a  particular  pro 


RESIDENCE  AT  LIVERPOOL.  139 

i 

vidence  superintending  and  conducting  the  steps 
of  man,  since  he  was  so  often  reminded  of  it  in 
his  own  history.  The  following  occurrence  is 
one  of  many  instances  :  Mr.  Newton,  after  his 
reformation,  was  remarkable  for  his  punctua- 
lity ;  I  remember  his  often  sitting  with  his  watch 
in  his  hand,  lest  he  should  fail  in  keeping  his  next 
engagement.  This  exactness  with  respect  to  time, 
it  seems,  was  his  habit  while  occupying  his  post 
at  Liverpool.  One  day,  howrever,  some  business 
had  so  detained  him  that  he  came  to  his  boat 
much  later  than  usual,  to  the  surprise  of  those 
who  had  observed  his  former  punctuality.  He 
went  out  in  the  boat  as  heretofore  to  inspect  a 
ship,  but  the  ship  blew  up  just  before  he  reached 
her;  it  appears,  that  if  he  had  left  the  sh^pre  a 
few  minutes  sooner,  h&  must  have  perishecf*  with 
the  rest  on  board. 

This  anecdote  I  had  from  a  clergyman,  upon 
whose  word  I  can  depend,  who  had  been  long  on 
intimate  terms  with  Mr.  Newton,  and  who  had  it 
from  Mr.  Newton  himself;  the  reason  of  its  not 
appearing  in  his  letters  from  Liverpool  to  Mrs. 
Newton,  I  can  only  suppose  to  be,  his  fearing  to 
alarm  her  with  respect  to  the  dangers  of  his  sta- 
tion. But  another  providential  occurrence,  which 
he  mentions  in  those  letters,  I  shall  transcribe. 

"  When  I  think  of  my  settlement  here,  and  the 
manner  of  it,  I  see  the  appointment  of  Providence 


HO 


LIFE   OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


so  good  and  gracious,  and  such  a  plain  answer 
to  my  poor  prayers,  that  I  cannot  but  wonder  and 
adore.    I  think  I  have  not  yet  told  you,  that  my 

immediate  predecessor  in  office,  Mr.  C  ,  had 

not  the  least  intention  of  resigning  his  place  on 
the  occasion  of  his  father's  death ;  though  such 
a  report  was  spread  about  the  town  without  his 
knowledge,  or  rather  in  defiance  of  all  he  could 
say  to  contradict  it.   Yet  to  this  false  report  I 

owe  my  situation.  For  it  put  Mr.  M  upon  an 

application  to  Mr.  S  ,  the  member  for  the 

town;  and  the  very  day  he  received  the  pro- 
mise in  my  favor,  Mr.  C  was  found  dead  in  his 

bed,  though  he  had  been  in  company,  and  in  per- 
fect health  the  night  before.  If  I  mistake  not, 
the  same  messenger  who  brought  the  promise 
carried  back  the  news  of  the  vacancy  to  Mr. 
S  ,  at  Chester.  About  an  hour  after,  the  may- 
or applied  for  a  nephew  of  his  ;  but,  though  it 
was  only  an  hour  or  two,  he  was  too  late.  Mr. 

S  had  already  written,  and  sent  off  the  letter, 

and  I  was  appointed  accordingly.  These  circum- 
stances appear  to  me  extraordinary,  though  of  a 
piece  with  many  other  parts  of  my  singular  his- 
tory. And  the  more  so,  as  by  another  mistake  I 
missed  the  land-waiter's  place,  which  was  my 
first  object,  and  which  I  now  see  would  not  have 
suited  us  nearly  so  well.  I  thank  God  I  can  now 
look  through  instruments  and  second  causes,  and 


TIEFL'iF.D  ORDINATION. 


HI 


see  his  wisdom  and  goodness  immediately  con- 
cerned in  fixing  my  lot." 

Mr.  Newton  having  expressed,  near  the  end  of 
his  narrative,  the  motives  which  induced  him  to 
aim  at  a  regular  appointment  to  the  ministry  in  the 
Church  of  England,  and  the  refusal  he  met  with 
in  his  first  making  the  attempt,  the  reader  is  far- 
ther informed  that,  on  Dec.  16,  1758,  Mr.  Newton 
received  a  title  to  a  curacy  from  the  Rev.  Mr. 

C  ,  and  applied  to  the  Archbishop  of  York, 

Dr.  Gilbert,  for  ordination.  The  Bishop  of  Ches- 
ter having  countersigned  his  testimonials,  direct- 
ed him  to  Dr.  Newton,  the  archbishop's  chaplain. 
He  was  referred  to  the  secretary,  and  received 
the  softest  refusal  imaginable.  The  secretary  in- 
formed him  that  he  had  f ''  represented  the  matter  to 
the  archbishop,  but  his  Grace  was  inflexible  in  sup- 
porting the  rules  and  canons  of  the  Church,"  &c. 

Travelling  to  Loughborough,  Mr.  Newton  stop- 
ped at  Welwyn,  and  sending  a  note  to  the  cele- 
brated Dr.  Young,  he  received  for  answer,  that 
the  doctor  would  be  glad  to  see  him.  He  found 
the  doctor's  conversation  agreeable,  and  to  an- 
swer his  expectation  respecting  the  author  of  the 
Night  Thoughts.  The  doctor  likewise  seemed 
pleased  with  Mr.  Newton.  He  approved  Mr.  New- 
ton's design  of  entering  the  ministry,  and  said 
many  encouraging  things  upon  the  subject ;  and 
when  he  dismissed  Mr.  Newton,  desired  him  never 


142 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


to  pass  near  Welwyn  without  calling  upon  him 
Mr.  Newton,  it  seems,  had  made  some  smart 
attempts  at  Liverpool,  in  a  way  of  preaching  or 
expounding.  Many  wished  him  to  engage  more 
at  large  in  those  ministerial  employments,  to 
which  his  own  mind  was  inclined ;  and  he  thus 
expresses  his  motives  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Newton, 
in  answer  to  the  objections  she  had  formed. 
"  The  death  of  the  late  Rev.  Mr.  Jones,  of  St. 
Savior's,  has  pressed  this  concern  more  closely 
upon  my  mind.  I  fear  it  must  be  wrong,  after 
having  so  solemnly  devoted  myself  to  the  Lord  for 
his  service,  to  wear  away  my  time,  and  bury  my 
talents  in  silence,  (because  I  have  been  refused 
orders  in  the  Established  Church,)  after  all  the 
great  things  he  has  done  for  me." 

In  a  note  annexed,  he  observes,  that  "the  in- 
fluence of  his  judicious  and  affectionate  counsel- 
lor moderated  the  zeal  which  dictated  this  letter, 
written  in  the  year  1762 ;  that  had  it  not  been 
for  her,  he  should  probably  have  been  pre- 
cluded from  those  important  scenes  of  service 
to  which  he  was  afterward  appointed :"  but,  he 
adds,  "  The  exercises  of  my  mind  upon  this 
point,  I  believe,  have  not  been  peculiar  to  myself. 
I  have  known  several  persons,  sensible,  pious,  of 
competent  abilities,  and  cordially  attached  to  the 
established  church  ;  who,  being  wearied  out  with 
repeated  refusals  of  ordination,  and,  perhaps,  not 


ORDAINED  AT  OLNEY. 


143 


having  the  advantage  of  such  an  adviser  as  I  had, 
have  at  length  struck  into  the  itinerant  path,  or 
settled  among  the  dissenters.  Some  of  these,  yet 
living,  are  men  of  respectable  characters,  and 
useful  in  their  ministry." 

In  the  year  1764  Mr.  Newton  had  the  curacy 
of  Olney  proposed  to  him,  and  was  recommended 
by  Lord  Dartmouth  to  Dr.  Green,  bishop  of  Lin- 
coln ;  of  whose  candor  and  tenderness  he  speaks 
with  much  respect.  The  bishop  admitted  him  as 
a  candidate  for  orders.  "  The  examination,"  says 
he,  ''lasted  about  an  hour,  chiefly  upon  the  prin- 
cipal heads  of  divinity.  As  I  resolved  not  to  be 
charged  hereafter  with  dissimulation,  I  was  con- 
strained to  differ  from  his  lordship  in  some  points  ; 
but  he  was  not  offended:  he  declared  himself 
satisfied,  and  has  promised  to  ordain  me  either 
next  Sunday,  in  town,  or  the  Sunday  following, 
at  Buckden.  Let  us  praise  the  Lord." 

Air.  Newton  was  ordained  deacon  at  Buckden, 
April  29,  1764-,  and  priest  in  June,  the  following 
year.  In  the  parish  of  Olney  he  found  many  who 
not  only  had  evangelical  views  of  the  truth,  but 
had  long  walked  in  the  light  and  experience  of 
it.  The  vicarage  was  in  the  gift  of  the  Earl  of 
Dartmouth,  the  nobleman  to  whom  Mr.  Newton 
addressed  the  first  twenty-six  letters  in  his  Car- 
diphonia.  The  earl  was  a  man  of  real  piety  and 
most  amiable  disposition:  he  had  formerly  ap- 


14-1  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

pointed  the  Rev.  Moses  Brown,  vicar  of  Olney. 
Mr.  Brown  was  an  evangelical  minister,  and  a 
good  man j  he  had  afforded  wholesome  instruc- 
tion to  the  parishioners  of  Olney,  and  had  been 
the  instrument  of  a  sound  conversion  in  many  of 
them.  He  was  the  author  of  a  poem,  entitled 
Sunday  Thoughts;  a  translation  of  Professor 
Zimmermann's  Excellency  of  the  Knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ,  &c. 

But  Mr.  Brown  had  a  numerous  family,  and 
met  with  considerable  trials  in  it ;  he  too  much 
resembled  Eli  in  his  indulgence  of  his  children. 
He  was  also  under  the  pressure  of  pecuniary  diffi- 
culties, and  had  therefore  accepted  the  chaplaincy 
of  Morden  College,  Blackheath,  while  vicar  of  Ol- 
ney. Mr.  Newton,  in  these  circumstances,  under- 
took the  curacy  of  Olney,  in  which  he  continued 
nearly  sixteen  years,  previous  to  his  removal  to 
St.  Mary  Woolnoth,  to  which  he  was  afterward 
presented  by  the  late  John  Thornton,  Esq. 

Mr.  Newton  was  under  the  greatest  obligations 
to  Mr.  Thornton's  friendship  while  at  Olney,  and 
was  enabled  to  extend  his  own  usefulness  by  the 
bounty  of  that  extraordinary  man. 

It  is  said  of  Solomon,  that  the  Lord  gave  him 
largeness  of  heart,  even  as  the  sand  on  the  sen 
shore :  such  a  peculiar  disposition  for  whatever 
was  good  or  benevolent  was  also  bestowed  on 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  MR.  THORNTON.  145 

Mr.  Thornton.  He  differed  as  much  from  rich 
nen  of  ordinary  bounty,  as  they  do  from  others 
vvho  are  parsimonious.  Nor  was  this  bounty  the 
esult  of  occasional  impulse,  like  a  summer 
shower,  violent  and  short:  on  the  contrary,  it 
.  proceeded  like  a  river,  pouring  its  waters  through 
.arious  countries,  copious  and  inexhaustible. 
Nor  could  those  obstructions  of  imposture  and 
ngratitude,  which  have  often  been  advanced  as 
he  cause  of  damming  up  other  streams,  prevent 
ir  retard  the  course  of  this.  The  generosity  of 
\Ir.  Thornton,  indeed,  frequently  met  with  such 
linderances,  and  led  him  to  increasing  discrimina- 
ion ;  but  the  stream  of  his  bounty  never  ceased  to 
lold  its  course.  Deep,  silent  and  overwhelming, 
it  still  rolled  on,  nor  ended  even  with  his  life. 

But  the  fountain  from  whence  this  beneficence 
lowed,  and  by  which  its  permanency  and  direc- 
tion were  maintained,  must  not  be  concealed. 
Mr.  Thornton  was  a  christian.  Let  no  one,  how- 
ever, so  mistake  me  here,  as  to  suppose  that  I 
mean  nothing  more  by  the  term  Christian,  than 
fhe  state  of  one,  who  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
Revelation,  gives  assent  to  its  doctrines — regu- 
larly attends  its  ordinances — and  maintains,  ex- 
ternally, a  moral  and  religious  deportment.  Such 
a  one  may  have  a  name  to  live  while  he  is  dead: 
he  may  have  a  form  of  godliness  without  the  power 
of  it — he  may  even  be  found  denying  and  ridi- 

Newton.  13 


146 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTOX. 


culing  that  power — till,  at  length,  he  can  only  be 
convinced  of  his  error  at  an  infallible  tribunal: 
where  a  vHdow,  who  gives  but  a  mite,  or  a  publi- 
can, who  smites  on  his  breast,  shall  be  preferred 
before  him. 

Mr.  Thornton  was  a  christian  indeed ;  that  is, 
he  was  alive  to  God  by  a  spiritual  regeneration. 
With  this  God  he  was  daily  and  earnestly  trans- 
acting that  infinitely  momentous  affair,  the  salva- 
tion of  his  own  soul;  and,  next  to  that,  the  sal- 
vation of  the  souls  of  others.  Temperate  in  all 
things,  though  mean  in  nothing,  he  made  provi- 
sion for  doing  good  with  his  opulence  :  and  seem- 
ed to  be  most  in  his  element  when  appropriating 
a  considerable  part  of  his  large  income  to  the  ne- 
cessities of  others. 

But  Mr.  Thornton  possessed  that  discrimina- 
tion in  his  attempts  to  serve  his  fellow-creatures, 
which  distinguishes  an  enlightened  mind.  He 
habitually  contemplated  man,  as  one  who  has  not 
only  a  body,  subject  to  want,  affliction  and  deathi 
but  a  spirit  also,  which  is  immortal,  and  must  be 
happy  or  miserable  for  ever.  He  felt,  therefore, 
that  the  noblest  exertions  of  charity  are  those 
which  are  directed  to  the  relief  of  the  noblesl 
part  of  our  frame.  Accordingly  he  left  no  mode 
of  exertion  untried  to  relieve  man  under  his  na- 
tural ignorance  and  depravity.  To  this  end,  h« 
purchased  advowsons  and  presentations,  with  z 


ACQUAINTANCE   WITH   M R .   THORNTON.  14-7 


iew  to  place  in  parishes  the  most  enlightened, 
ictive  and  useful  ministers.   He  employed  the  ex- 
ensive  commerce  in  which  he  was  engaged,  as 
t  powerful  instrument  for  conveying  immense 
i  [uantities  of  Bibles,  prayer-books,  and  other  most 
liseful  publications,  to  every  place  visited  by  our 
I  rade.  He  printed  at  his  own  sole  expense,  large 
Editions  of  the  latter  for  that  purpose  ,  and  it  may 
f  safely  be  affirmed,  that  there  is  scarcely  a  part 
pf  the  known  world,  where  such  books  could  be 
i  ntroduced,  which  did  not  feel  the  salutary  in- 
luence  of  this  single  individual.    Nor  was  Mr. 
Thornton  limited  in  his  views  of  promoting  the 
unterests  of  real  religion,  with  what  sect  soever 
nit  was  connected.  He  stood  ready  to  assist  a  be- 
neficial design  in  every  party,  but  would  be  the 
creature  of  none.    General  good  was  his  object : 
md,  wherever  or  however  it  made  its  way,  his 
maxim  seemed  constantly  to  be,  Valeat  quantum 
valere  potest* 

But  the  nature  and  extent  of  his  liberality  will 
be  greatly  misconceived,  if  any  one  should  sup- 
pose it  confined  to  moral  and  religious  objects, 
though  here  were  the  grandest  and  most  com- 
prehensive exertions  of  it.  Mr.  Thornton  was  a 
philanthropist  on  the  largest  scale — the  friend  of 
man,  under  all  his  wants.  His  manner  of  reliev- 
ing his  fellow-men  was  princely.  Instances  might 

*  Be  it  as  useful  as  possible. 


148 


LIFE  OF  EE V.  JOHN  NEWTOISf. 


be  mentioned  of  it,  were  it  proper  to  particu- 
larize, which  would  surprise  those  who  did  not 
know  Mr.  Thornton.  They  were  so  much  out  of 
ordinary  course  and  expectation,  that  I  know 
some,  who  felt  it  their  duty  to  inquire  of  him, 
whether  the  sum  they  had  received  was  sent  by 
his  intention  or  by  mistake.  To  this  may  be  add- 
ed, that  the  manner  of  presenting-  his  gifts  was  as 
delicate  and  concealed  as  the  measure  was  large. 

Besides  this  constant  course  of  private  dona- 
tions, there  was  scarcely  a  public  charity,  or  oc- 
casion of  relief  to  the  ignorant  or  necessitous, 
which  did  not  meet  with  his  distinguished  sup- 
port. His  only  question  was,  "  May  the  miseries 
of  man  in  any  measure  be  removed  or  alleviated  Vr 
Nor  was  he  merely  distinguished  by  stretching 
out  a  liberal  hand :  his  benevolent  heart  was  so 
intent  on  doing  good,  that  he  was  ever  inventing 
and  promoting  plans  for  its  diffusion  at  home  or 
abroad. 

He  who  wisely  desires  any  end,  will  as  wisely 
regard  the  means.  In*  this,  Mr.  Thornton  was 
perfectly  consistent.  In  order  to  execute  his  be- 
neficent designs,  he  observed  frugality  and  ex- 
actness in  his  personal  expenses.  By  such  pros- 
pective methods  he  was  able  to  extend  the  influ- 
ence of  his  fortune  far  beyond  those  who,  in  still 
more  elevated  stations,  are  slaves  to  expensive 
habits.  Such  men  meanly  pace  in  the  trammels- 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH   MR.  THORNTON.  119 


>f  the  tyrant  custom,  till  it  leaves  them  scarcely 
■tiough  to  preserve  their  conscience,  or  even 
heir  credit  5  much  less  to  employ  their  talents 
a  Mr.  Thornton's  nobler  pursuits.  He,  however, 
"ould  afford  to  be  generous,  and  while  he  was  ge- 
lerous,  did  not  forget  his  duty  in  being  just.  He 
tnade  ample  provision  for  his  children  :  and  though, 
while  they  are  living,  it  would  be  indelicate  to  say 
more,  I  am  sure  of  speaking  truth,  when  I  say 
they  are  so  far  from  thinking  themselves  impover- 
ished by  the  bounty  of  their  father,  that  they  con- 
emplate  with  the  highest  satisfaction  the  fruit  of 
:hose  benefits  to  society  which  he  planted — which 
t  may  be  trusted  will  extend  with  time  itself — and 
which,  after  his  example,  they  still  labor  to  extend. 

But,  with  all  the  piety  and  liberality  of  this  ho- 
nored character,  no  man  had  deeper  views  of  his 
own  unworthiness  before  his  God.  To  the  Re- 
deemer's work  alone  he  looked  for  acceptance 
of  his  person  and  services :  he  felt  that  all  he  did, 
or  could  do,  was  infinitely  short  of  that  which 
had  been  done  for  him,  and  of  the  obligations 
that  were  thereby  laid  upon  him.  It  was  this 
ibasedness  of  heart  toward  God,  combined  with 
the  most  singular  largeness  of  heart  toward  his  fel- 
low-creatures, which  distinguished  John  Thorn- 
ion  among  men. 

To  this  common  patron  of  every  useful  and 
pious  endeavor,  Mr.  Newton  sent  the  'f  Narrative  " 
13* 


150 


LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


inserted  in  the  former  part  of  these  memoirs, 
Mr.  Thornton  replied  in  his  usual  manner,  that 
is,  by  accompanying  his  letter  with  a  valuable 
bank  note ;  and,  some  months  after  he  paid  Mr. 
Newton  a  visit  at  Olney.  A  closer  connection 
being  now  formed  between  friends  who  employed 
their  distinct  talents  in  promoting  the  same  be- 
nevolent cause,  Mr.  Thornton  left  a  sum  of  mo- 
ney with  Mr.  Newton  to  be  appropriated  to  the 
defraying  of  his  necessary  expenses,  and  the  re- 
lief of  the  poor.  fr  Be  hospitable,"  said  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton, w  and  keep  an  open  house  for  such  as  are 
worthy  of  entertainment.  Help  the  poor  and 
needy.  I  will  statedly  allow  you  200/.  a  year,  and 
readily  send  whatever  you  have  occasion  to  draw 
for  more."  Mr.  Newton  told  me,  that  he  thought 
he  had  received  of  Mr.  Thornton  upward  of  3000/. 
in  this  way  during  the  time  he  resided  at  Olney. 

The  case  of  most  ministers  is  peculiar,  in  this 
respect.  Some  among  them  may  be  looked  up 
to,  on  account  of  their  publicity  and  talents: 
they  may  have  made  great  sacrifices  of  their  per- 
sonal interest,  in  order  to  enter  on  their  ministry, 
and  may  be  possessed  of  the  warmest  benevo- 
lence ;  but,  from  the  narrowness  of  their  pecu- 
niary circumstances,  and  from  the  largeness  of 
their  families,  they  often  perceive  that  an  ordi- 
nary tradesman  in  their  parishes  can  subscribe 
to  a  charitable  or  popular  institution  much  more 


ACQUAINTANCE   WITH  COWPER.  151 

liberally  than  themselves.  This  would  have  been 
Mr.  Newton's  case,  but  for  the  above-mentioned 
singular  patronage. 

A  minister,  however,  should  not  be  so  forget- 
ful of  his  dispensation  as  to  repine  at  his  want 
of  power  in  this  respect.  He  might  as  justly  es- 
timate his  deficiency  by  the  strength  of  the  lion, 
or  the  flight  of  the  eagle.  The  power  communi- 
cated to  him  is  of  another  kind :  and  power  of 
every  kind  belongs  to  God,  who  gives  gifts  to 
every  man  severally  as  he  will.  The  two  mites 
of  the  widow  were  all  the  power  of  that  kind 
which  was  communicated  to  her ;  and  he**  be- 
stowment  of  her  two  mites  was  better  accepted 
than  the  large  offerings  of  the  rich  man.  The 
powers,  therefore,  of  Mr.  Thornton  and  of  Mr. 
Newton,  though  of  a  different  order,  were  both 
consecrated  to  God:  and  each  might  have  said, 
Of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee. 

Providence  seems  to  have  appointed  Mr.  New- 
ton's residence  at  Olney,  among  other  reasons, 
for  the  relief  of  the  depressed  mind  of  the  poet 
Cowper.  There  has  gone  forth  an  unfounded  re- 
port, that  the  deplorable  melancholy  of  Cowper 
was,  in  part,  derived  from  his  residence  and  con- 
1  nections  in  that  place.  The  fact,  however,  is  the 
reverse  of  this  :  and,  as  it  may  be  of  importance 
to  the  interests  of  true  religion  to  prevent  such 


152 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


a  misrepresentation  from  taking  root,  I  will  pre- 
sent the  real  state  of  the  case,  as  I  have  found  it 
attested  by  the  most  respectable  living  witnesses ; 
and,  more  especially,  as  confirmed  by  a  MS.  writ- 
ten by  the  poet  himself,  at  the  calmest  period  of 
his  life,  with  the  perusal  of  which  I  was  favored 
by  Mr.  Newton. 

It  most  evidently  appears  that  symptoms  of 
.Mr.  Cowper's  morbid  state  began  to  discover 
themselves  in  his  earliest  youth.  He  seems  to 
have  been  at  all  times  disordered,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree.  He  was  sent  to  Westminster  school 
at  the  age  of  nine  years,  and  long  endured  the 
tyranny  of  an  elder  boy,  of  which  he  gives  an  af- 
fecting  account  in  the  paper  above-mentioned  ; 
and  which  ,f  produced,"  as  one  of  his  biographers 
observes,  who  had  long  intimacy  with  him,  ?f  an 
indelible  effect  upon  his  mind  through  life."  A  per- 
son so  naturally  bashful  and  depressed  as  Cow- 
per,  must  needs  find  the  profession  of  a  barrister 
a  further  occasion  of  anxiety.  The  post  obtained 
for  him  by  his  friends  in  the  house  of  lords  over- 
whelmed him :  and  the  remonstrances  wThich 
those  friends  made  against  his  relinquishing  so 
honorable  and  lucrative  an  appointment,  (but 
which  soon  after  actually  took  place,)  greatly 
increased  the  anguish  of  a  man  already  inca- 
pacitated for  business.  To  all  this  wrere  added 
events,  which,  of  themselves,  have  been  found 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  COWPEEt 


153 


ufficient  to  overset  the  strongest  minds  :  name- 
y,  the  decease  of  his  particular  friend  and  inti- 
nate,  Sir  William  Kussel ;  and  his  meeting  with 
.  disappointment  in  obtaining  a  lady  upon  whom 
lis  affections  were  placed. 

But  the  state  of  a  person,  torn  and  depressed 
not  by  his  religious  connections,  but)  by  adverse 
•ircumstances,  and  these  meeting  a  naturally 
norbid  sensibility,  long  before  he  knew  Olney,  or 
iad  formed  any  connection  with  its  inhabitants, 
vill  best  appear  from  some  verses  which  he  sent 
it  this  time  to  one  of  his  female  relations,  and 
or  the  communication  of  which  we  are  indebted 
o  Mr.  Hay  ley. 

"  Doom'd  as  I  am,  in  solitude  to  waste 
The  present  moments,  and  regret  the  past ; 
Depriv'd  of  every  joy  I  valued  most, 
My  friend  torn  from  me,  and  my  mistress  lost : 
Call  not  this  gloom  I  wear,  this  anxious  mien, 
The  dull  effect  of  humor  or  of  spleen  ! 
Still,  still  I  mourn  with  each  returning  day, 
Him — snatch'd  by  fate,  in  early  youth,  away  ; 
And  her,  through  tedious  years  of  doubt  and  pain, 
Fix'd  in  her  choice,  and  faithful — but  in  vain. 
See  me — ere  yet  my  destin'd  course  half  done, 
Cast  forth  a  wand'rer  on  a  wild  unknown  ! 
See  me,  neglected  on  the  world's  rude  coast, 
Each  dear  companion  of  my  voyage  lost ! 
Nor  ask  why  clouds  of  sorrow  shade  my  brow, 
And  ready  tears  wait  only  leave  to  flow  ; 
Why  all  that  soothes  a  heart,  from  anguish  free, 
All  that  delights  the  happy — palls  with  me !" 


154. 


LIFE   or   REV.  JOHN  NEWTOX. 


Under  such  pressures,  the  melancholy  and  sus- 
ceptible mind  of  Cowper  received,  from  evange- 
lical truth,  the  first  consolation  which  it  ever 
tasted.  It  was  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Cotton,  of 
St.  Albans,  (a  physician  as  capable  of  administer- 
ing to  the  spiritual  as  to  the  natural  maladies  of 
his  patients,)  that  Mr.  Cowper  first  obtained  a 
clear  view  of  those  sublime  and  animating  doc- 
trines which  so  distinguished  and  exalted  his  fu- 
ture strains  as  a  poet.  Here,  also,  he  received 
that  settled  tranquillity  and  peace  which  he  en- 
joyed for  several  years  afterwards.  So  far,  there- 
fore, was  his  constitutional  malady  from  being 
produced  or  increased  by  his  evangelical  con- 
nections, either  at  St.  Albans  or  at  Olney,  that  he 
seems  never  to  have  had  any  settled  peace  but 
from  the  truths  he  learned  in  these  societies,  it 
appears,  that  among  them  alone  he  found  the 
only  sunshine  he  ever  enjoyed  through  the 
cloudy  day  of  his  afflicted  life. 

It  appears,  also,  that,  while  at  Dr.  Cotton's, 
Mr.  Cowper's  distress  was  for  a  long  time  en- 
tirely removed,  by  marking  that  passage  in  Rom. 
3,  25  :  Him  hath  God  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation, 
through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  declare  his  righ- 
teousness for  the  remission  of  sins  that  are  past.  In 
this  scripture  he  saw  the  remedy  which  God  pro- 
vides for  the  relief  of  a  guilty  conscience,  with 
such  clearness,  that  for  several  years  after  his 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  COWfER. 


155 


heart  was  filled  with  love,  and  his  life  occupied 
with  prayer,  praise,  and  doing  good  to  his  needy 
fellow-creatures. 

Mr.  Newton  told  me,  that,  from  Mr.  Cowper's 
first  coming  to  Olney,  it  was  observed  he  had 
studied  his  Bible  with  such  advantage,  and  was 
so  well  acquainted  with  its  design,  that  not  only 
his  troubles  were  removed,  but  that,  to  the  end  of 
his  life,  he  never  had  clearer  views  of  the  peculiar 
doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  than  when  he  first  became 
an  attendant  upon  them — that  (short  intervals 
excepted)  Mr.  Cowper  enjoyed  a  course  of  peace 
for  several  successive  years — that,  during  this 
period,  the  inseparable  attendants  of  a  lively  faith 
appeared,  by  Mr.  Cowper's  exerting  himself  to 
the  utmost  of  his  power  in  every  benevolent  ser- 
vice he  could  render  to  his  poor  neighbors — and 
that  Mr.  Newton  used  to  consider  him  as  a  sort 
of  curate,  from  his  constant  attendance  upon  the 
sick  and  afflicted  in  that  large  and  necessitous 
parish. 

But.  the  malady,  which  seemed  to  be  subdued 
by  the  strong  consolations  of  the  Gospel,  was 
still  latent  j  and  only  required  some  occasion  of 
irritation,  to  break  out  again,  and  overwhelm 
the  patient.  Any  object  of  constant  attention 
that  shall  occupy  a  mind  previously  disordered, 
whether  fear,  or  love,  or  science,  or  religion, 
will  not  be  so  much  the  cause  of  the  disease,  as 


156 


LIFE   OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


the  accidental  occasion  of  exciting  it.  Cowper's 
letters  will  show  us  how  much  his  mind  was  oc- 
cupied at  one  time  by  the  truths  of  the  Bible,  and 
at  another  time  by  the  fictions  of  Homer:  but  his 
melancholy  was  originally  a  constitutional  dis- 
ease— a  physical  disorder,  which,  indeed,  could 
be  affected  either  by  the  Bible  or  by  Homer,  but 
was  utterly  distinct  in  its  nature  from  the  mere 
matter  of  either. 

And,  here,  I  cannot  but  mark  this  necessary 
distinction ;  having  often  been  witness  to  cases 
where  religion  has  been  assigned  as  the  proper 
cause  of  insanity,  when  it  has  been  only  an  acci- 
dental occasion,  in  the  case  of  one  already  affect- 
ed. Thus  Cowtper's  malady,  like  a  strong  current 
breaking  down  the  banks  which  had  hitherto  sus- 
tained the  pressure  and  obliquity  of  its  course,  pre- 
vailed against  the  supports  he  had  received,  and 
precipitated  him  again  into  his  former  distress. 

I  inquired  of  Mr.  Newton  as  to  the  manner  in 
wrhich  Mr.  Cowper's  disorder  returned,  after  aa 
apparent  recovery  of  nearly  nine  years'  continu- 
ance ;  and  was  informed  that  the  first  symptoms 
were  discovered  one  morning  in  his  conversation, 
soon  after  he  had  undertaken  a  new  engagement 
in  composition. 

As  a  general  and  full  account  of  this  extraor- 
dinary genius  is  already  before  the  public,  such 
particulars  would  not  have  occupied  so  much 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  DR.  SCOTT.  157 

oom  in  these  memoirs,  but  with  a  view  of  re- 
aoving  the  false  statements  that  have  been  made. 

Of  great  importance  also  was  the  vicinity  of 
rlr.  Newton's  residence  to  that  of  the  Kev.  Thomas 
>cott,  then  Curate  of  Ravenstone  and  Weston 
Jnderwood,  and  afterwards  Rector  of  Aston 
>andford ;  a  man  whose  ministry  and  writings 
ave  since  been  so  useful  to  mankind.  This 
lergyman  was  nearly  a  Socinian :  he  was  in  the 
abit  of  ridiculing  evangelical  religion,  and  la- 
ored  to  bring  over  Mr.  Newton  to  his  own  senti- 
'  lents.  Mr.  Scott  had  married  a  lady  from  the 
imily  of  a  Mr.  Wright,  a  gentleman  in  his  parish, 
rho  had  promised  to  provide  for  him.  But  Mr. 
cott's  objections  to  subscription  arose  so  high, 
lat  he  informed  his  patron  it  would  be  in  vain 
3  attempt  providing  for  him  in  the  Church  of 
ingland ;  as  he  could  not  conscientiously  accept 
'  living  on  the  condition  of  subscribing  its  Litur- 
y  and  Articles.  "  This,"  said  Mr.  Newton, tf  gave 
le  hopes  of  Mr.  Scott's  being  sincere,  however 
nrong  in  his  principles." 

But  the  benefit  which  Mr.  Scott  derived  from 
is  neighbor  will  best  appear  in  his  own  words. 

5 I  was,"  says  he,  "  full  of  proud  self-suffi- 
|  iency,  very  positive,  and  very  obstinate :  and, 
eing  situated  in  the  neighborhood  of  some  of 
lose  whom  the  world  calls  Methodists,  I  joined 

Newton.  14 


158 


LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


in  the  prevailing  sentiment  ;  held  them  in  sove- 
reign contempt;  spoke  of  them  with  derision; 
declaimed  against  them  from  the  pulpit,  as  per- 
sons full  of  bigotry,  enthusiasm  and  spiritual 
pride  ;  laid  heavy  things  to  their  charge;  and 
endeavored  to  prove  the  doctrines  which  I  sup- 
posed them  to  hold  (for  I  had  never  read  their 
books)  to  be  dishonorable  to  God,  and  destruc- 
tive of  morality.  And  though,  in  some  com- 
panies, I  chose  to  conceal  part  of  my  senti- 
ments ;  and,  in  all,  affected  to  speak  as  a  friend 
to  universal  toleration  ;  yet  scarcely  any  person 
could  be  more  proudly  and  violently  prejudiced 
against  both  their  persons  and  principles  than  I 
then  was. 

"  In  January,  1774-,  two  of  my  parishioners,  a 
man  and  his  wife,  lay  at  the  point  of  death.  I 
had  heard  of  the  circumstance  ;  but,  according  to 
my  general  custom,  not  being  sent  for,  I  took  no 
notice  of  it :  till,  one  evening,  the  woman  being 
now  dead,  and  the  man  dying,  I  heard  that  my 
neighbor,  Mr.  Newton,  had  been  several  times  tc 
visit  them.  Immediately  my  conscience  reproach- 
ed me  with  being  shamefully  negligent,  in  sitting 
at  home,  within  a  few  doors  of  dying  persons 
my  general  hearers,  and  never  going  to  visii 
them.  Directly  it  occurred  to  me,  that,  what 
ever  contempt  I  might  have  for  Mr.  Newton'. 
doctrines,  I  must  acknowledge  his  practice  t( 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  DR.  SCOTT.  159 

more  consistent  with  the  ministerial  charac- 
r  than  my  own.    He  must  have  more  zeal  and 
ve  for  souls  than  I  had,  or  he  would  not  have 
alked  so  far  to  visit,  and  supply  my  lack  of  care 
y  those  who,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned,  might 
ave  been  left  to  perish  in  their  sins. 

This  reflection  affected  me  so  much,  that, 
ithout  delay,  and  very  earnestly,  yea  with  tears, 
besought  the  Lord  to  forgive  my  past  neg- 
*ct ;  and  I  resolved  thenceforth  to  be  more  at- 
mtive  to  this  duty  :  which  resolution,  though  at 
rst  formed  in  ignorant  dependance  on  my  own 
rength,  I  have  by  divine  grace  been  enabled 
itherto  to  keep.  I  went  immediately  to  visit  the 
irvivor  ;  and  the  affecting  sight  of  one  person 
ready  dead,  and  another  expiring  in  the  same 
damber,  .served  more  deeply  to  impress  my  se- 
ous  convictions. 

"It  was  at  this  time  that  my  correspondence 
ith  Mr.  Newton  commenced.  At  a  visitation, 
fay,  1775,  we  exchanged  a  few  words  on  a  con- 
overted  subject,  in  the  room  among  the  clergy, 
hich  I  believe  drew  many  eyes  upon  us.  At 
lat  time  he  prudently  declined  the  discourse  ; 
it,  a  day  or  two  after,  he  sent  me  a  short  note, 
ith  a  little  book  for  my  perusal.  This  was  the 
?ry  thing  I  wanted  :  and  I  gladly  embraced  the 
pportunity  which,  according  to  my  wishes, 
?emed  now  to  offer  ;  God  knoweth,  with  no  in- 


160 


LIFE   OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


considerable  expectations  that  my  arguments 
would  prove  irresistibly  convincing,  and  that  I 
should  have  the  honor  of  rescuing  a  well-meaning 
person  from  his  enthusiastical  delusions. 

"  I  had,  indeed,  by  this  time  conceived  a  very 
favorable  opinion  of  him,  and  a  sort  of  respect 
for  him  ;  being  acquainted  with  the  character  he 
sustained  even  among  some  persons  who  ex- 
pressed a  disapprobation  of  his  doctrines.  They 
were  forward  to  commend  him  as  a  benevolent, 
disinterested,  inoffensive  person,  and  a  laborious 
minister.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  looked  upon 
his  religious  sentiments  as  rank  fanaticism ;  and 
entertained  a  very  contemptuous  opinion  of  hi* 
abilities,  natural  and  acquired.  Once  I  had  had 
the  curiosity  to  hear  him  preach ;  and,  not  un- 
derstanding his  sermon,  I  made  a  very  great  jes 
of  it,  where  I  could  do  it  without  giving  offence 
I  had  also  read  one  of  his  publications  j  but,  fo 
the  same  reason,  I  thought  the  greater  part  of  i 
whimsical,  paradoxical  and  unintelligible. 

"  Concealing,  therefore,  the  true  motives  ol 
my  conduct  under  the  offer  of  friendship  and  ; 
professed  desire  to  know  the  truth,  (which,  a 
midst  all  my  self-sufficiency  and  prejudice,  I  trus 
the  Lord  had  even  then  given  me,)  with  the  great 
est  affectation  of  candor,  and  of  a  mind  open  t< 
conviction,  I  wrote  him  a  long  letter  ;  purposinj 
to  draw  from  him  such  an  avowal  and  explanatio; 


ACQUAINTANCE   U'iTH  DR.  SCOTT. 


161 


his  sentiments  as  might  introduce  a  contro- 
versial discussion  of  our  religious  differences. 

,f  The  event  by  no  means  answered  my  expec- 
ation.  He  returned  a  very  friendly  and  long  an- 
=\ver  to  my  letter  ;  in  which  he  carefully  avoided 
he  mention  of  those  doctrines  which  he  knew 
voukl  offend  me.  He  declared  that  he  believed 
ne  to  be  one  who  feared  God,  and  was  under  the 
caching  of  his  Holy  Spirit  5  that  he  gladly  ac- 
•eptcd  my  offer  of  friendship,  and  was  nowise  in- 
clined to  dictate  to  me  :  but  that,  leaving  me  to 
he  guidance  of  the  Lord,  he  would  be  glad,  as 
>ccasion  served,  from  time  to  time,  to  bear  tes- 
imony  to  the  truths  of  the  Gospel ;  and  to  com- 
nunicate  his  sentiments  to  me  on  any  subject, 
vith  all  the  confidence  of  friendship. 

"In  this  manner  our  correspondence*  began : 
and  it  was  continued,  in  the  interchange  of  nine 
>r  ten  letters,  till  December  in  the  same  year. 
Throughout  I  held  my  purpose,  and  he  his.  I 
nade  use  of  every  endeavor  to  draw  him  into 
controversy,  and  rilled  my  letters  with  defini- 
ions,  inquiries,  arguments,  objections  and  consc- 
iences, requiring  explicit  answers.  He,  on  the 
>ther  hand,  shunned  everything  controversial  as 
nuch  as  possible,  and  filled  his  letters  with  the 
nost  useful  and  least  offensive  instructions  :  ex- 
ept  that,  now  and  then,  he  dropped  his  hints 
concerning  the  necessity,  the  true  nature,  and 


162 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


the  efficacy  of  faith,  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
was  to  be  sought  and  obtained  ;  and  concerning 
some  other  matters,  suited,  as  he  judged,  to  help 
me  forward  in  my  inquiry  after  truth.  But  they 
much  offended  my  prejudices,  afforded  me  matter 
of  disputation,  and  at  that  time  were  of  little  use 
to  me. 

"  When  I  had  made  this  little  progress  in  seek- 
ing the  truth,  my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Newton 
was  resumed.  From  the  conclusion  of  our  cor- 
respondence, in  December,  1775,  till  April,  1777, 
it  had  been  almost  wholly  dropped.  To  speak 
plainly,  I  did  not  care  for  his  company :  I  did  not 
mean  to  make  any  use  of  him  as  an  instructor; 
and  I  was  unwilling  the  world  should  think  us  in 
any  way  connected.  But,  under  discouraging  cir- 
cumstances, I  had  occasion  to  call  upon  him  j  and 
his  discourse  so  comforted  and  edified  me,  that 
my  heart,  being  by  his  means  relieved  from  its 
burden,  became  susceptible  of  affection  for  him. 
From  that  time  I  was  inwardly  pleased  to  have 
him  for  my  friend  j  though  not,  as  now,  rejoiced 
to  call  him  so.  I  had,  however,  even  at  that  time, 
no  thoughts  of  learning  doctrinal  truth  from  him, 
and  was  ashamed  to  be  detected  in  his  company ; 
but  I  sometimes  stole  away  to  spend  an  hour  with 
him.  About  the  same  period  I  once  heard  him 
preach,  but  still  it  was  foolishness  to  me ;  his  ser- 
mon being  principally  upon  the  believer's  expe- 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  DK.  SCOTT. 


163 


rience,  in  some  particulars,  with  which  I  was  un- 
acquainted. So  that,  though  I  loved  and  valued 
him,  I  considered  him  as  a  person  misled  by 
enthusiastical  notions;  and  strenuously  insisted 
that  we  should  never  think  alike  till  we  met  in 
heaven."* 

.Mr.  Scott,  after  going  on  to  particularize  his 
progress  in  the  discovery  of  truth,  and  the  cha- 
racter of  Mr.  Newton,  as  its  minister,  afterward 
adds  : 

"  The  pride  of  reasoning,  and  the  conceit  of 
superior  discernment,  had  all  along  accompanied 
me  :  and,  though  somewhat  broken,  had  yet  con- 
siderable influence.  Hitherto,  therefore,  I  had 
not  thought  of  hearing  any  person  preach ;  be- 
cause I  did  not  think  any  one  in  the  circle  of  my 
acquaintance  capable  of  giving  me  such  informa- 
tion as  I  wanted.  But,  being  at  length  convinced 
that  Mr.  Newton  had  been  right,  and  that  I  had 
been  mistaken,  in  the  several  particulars  in  which 
we  had  differed,  it  occurred  to  me,  that,  having 
preached  these  doctrines  so  long,  he  must  un- 
derstand many  things  concerning  them  to  which 
I  was  a  stranger.  Now,  therefore,  though  not 
without  much  remaining  prejudice,  and  not  less 
in  the  character  of  a  judge  than  of  a  scholar,  I 


*  Scott's  Force  of  Truth. 


164. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


condescended  to  be  his  hearer,  and  occasionally 
to  attend  his  preaching,  and  that  of  some  other 
ministers.  I  soon  perceived  the  benefit ;  for,  from 
time  to  time  the  secrets  of  my  heart  were  dis- 
covered to  me,  far  beyond  what  I  had  hitherto 
noticed ;  and  I  seldom  returned  from  hearing  a 
sermon,  without  having  conceived  a  meaner  opi- 
nion of  myself — without  having  attained  to  a  fur- 
ther acquaintance  with  my  deficiencies,  weak- 
nesses, corruptions  and  wants — or  without  being 
supplied  with  fresh  matter  for  prayer,  and  di- 
rected to  greater  watchfulness.  I  likewise  learned 
the  use  of  experience  in  preaching ;  and  was  con- 
vinced, that  the  readiest  way  to  reach  the  hearts 
and  consciences  of  others,  was  to  speak  from  my 
own.  In  short,  I  gradually  saw  more  and  more 
my  need  of  instruction,  and  was  at  length  brought 
to  consider  myself  as  a  very  novice  in  religious 
matters.  Thus  I  began  experimentally  to  per- 
ceive our  Lord's  meaning,  when  he  says,  Except 
ye  receive  the  kingdom  of  heaven  as  a  little  child 
ye  shall  in  no  wise  enter  therein." 

In  the  year  1776  Mr.  Newton  was  afflicted  with 
a  tumor  or  wen,  which  had  formed  on  his  thigh; 
and,  on  account  of  its  growing  more  large  and 
troublesome,  he  resolved  to  undergo  the  experi- 
ment of  extirpation.  This  obliged  him  to  go  to 
London  for  the  operation,  which  was  success 


MINISTRY  AT  OLNEY. 


165 


fully  performed,  October  10,  by  the  late  Mr. 
Warner,  of  Guy's  hospital.  I  remember  hearing 
him  speak  several  years  afterward  of  this  trying 
occasion  ;  but  the  trial  did  not  seem  to  have 
affected  him  as  a  painful  operation,  so  much  as  a 
critical  opportunity  in  which  he  might  fail  in  de* 
monstrating  the  patience  of  a  christian  under 
pain.  "I  felt,"  said  he,  ''that  being  enabled  to 
bear  a  very  sharp  operation  with  tolerable  calm- 
ness and  confidence,  was  a  greater  favor  granted 
to  me  than  the  deliverance  from  my  malady."* 
While  Mr.  Xewton  thus  continued  faithfully 
discharging  the  duties  of  his  station,  and  watch- 
ing for  the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of  his 

*  His  reflections  upon  the  occasion,  in  his  diary,  are  as 
follow: — :-  Thou  didst  support  me.  and  make  this  operation 
very  tolerable.  The  cure,  by  thy  blessing,  was  happily  ex- 
pedited: so  that  on  Sunday,  the  27th,  I  was  enabled  to  go 

to  church  and  hear  Mr.  F  ,  and  the  following  Sunday 

to  preach  for  him.  The  tenderness  and  attention  of  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  F  ,  with  whom  we  were,  I  cannot  sufficienilv  de- 
scribe: nor,  indeed,  the  kindness  of  many  other  friends. 
To  them  I  would  be  thankful,  my  Lord,  but  especially  to 
thee;  for  what  are  creatures  but  instruments  in  thy  hand, 
fulfilling  thy  pleasure  1  At  home  all  was  preserved  quiet, 
and  I  met  with  no  incident  to  distress  or  disturb  me  while 
absent.  The  last  fortnight  I  preached  often,  and  was  hur- 
ried about  in  seeing  my  friends.  But  though  I  had  little 
leisure  or  opportunity  for  retirement,  and  my  heart,  alas ! 
as  usual  was  sadly  reluctant  and  dull  in  secret,  yet,  in  pub- 
lic thou  wert  pleased  to  favor  me  with  liberty.'" 


166 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTOX. 


flock,  a  dreadful  fire  broke  out  at  Olney,  October, 
1777.  Mr.  Newton  took  an  active  part  in  com- 
forting and  relieving  the  sufferers ;  he  collected 
upward  of  £200  for  them  ;  a  considerable  sum 
of  money,  when  the  poverty  and  late  calamity 
of  the  place  are  considered.  Such  instances  of 
benevolence  toward  the  people,  with  the  constant 
assistance  he  afforded  the  poor,  by  the  help  of 
Mr.  Thornton,  naturally  led  him  to  expect  that 
he  should  have  so  much  influence  as  to  restrain 
gross  licentiousness  on  particular  occasions. 
But  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  had  ff  lived  to 
bury  the  old  crop,  on  which  any  dependance 
could  be  placed."  He  preached  a  weekly  lecture, 
which  occurred  that  year  on  the  5th  of  Novem- 
ber ;  and,  as  he  feared  that  the  usual  way  of  ce- 
lebrating it  at  Olney  might  endanger  his  hearers 
in  their  attendance  at  the  church,  he  exerted 
himself  to  preserve  some  degree  of  quiet  on  that 
evening.  Instead,  however,  of  hearkening  to  his 
entreaties,  the  looser  sort  exceeded  their  former 
extravagance,  drunkenness  and  rioting,  and  even 
obliged  him  to  send  out  money,  to  preserve  his 
house  from  violence.  This  happened  but  a  year 
before  he  finally  left  Olney.  When  he  related 
this  occurrence  to  me,  he  added  that  he  believed 
he  should  never  have  left  the  place  while  he 
lived,  had  not  so  incorrigible  a  spirit  prevailed 
in  a  parish  he  had  long  labored  to  reform. 


MINISTRY  AT  OLNEV. 


167 


But  I  must  remark  here,  that  this  is  no  so- 
litary fact,  nor  at  all  unaccountable.  The  Gos- 
pel, we  are  informed,  is  not  merely  tf  a  savor  of 
life  unto  life,"  but  also  M  of  death  unto  death." 
Those  whom  it  does  not  soften  it  is  often  found 
to  harden.  Thus  we  find  St.  Paul  M  went  into 
the  synagogue  and  spake  boldly  for  the  space 
of  three  months,  disputing  and  persuading  the 
things  concerning  the  kingdom  of  God.  But 
when  divers  were  hardened,  and  believed  not, 
but  spake  evil  of  that  way  before  the  multitude, 
he  departed  from  them." 

"  The  strong  man  armed  "  seeks  to  keep  his 
"house  and  goods  in  peace,"  and  if  a  minister  is 
disposed  to  let  this  sleep  of  death  remain,  that 
minister's  own  house  and  goods  may  be  permit- 
ted to  remain  in  peace  also.  Such  a  minister 
may  be  esteemed  by  his  parish  as  a  good  kind  of 
man — quiet,  inoffensive,  candid,  &c. ;  and  if  he 
discovers  any  zeal,  it  is  directed  to  keep  the  pa- 
rish in  the  state  he  found  it ;  that  is,  in  ignorance 
and  unbelief,  worldly-minded,  and  hard-hearted; 
the  very  state  of  peace  in  which  the  strong  man 
armed  seeks  to  keep  his  palace  or  citadel,  the 
human  heart. 

But  if  a  minister,  like  the  subject  of  these  Me- 
moirs, enters  into  the  design  of  his  commission 
— if  he  be  alive  to  the  interest  of  his  own  soul, 
and  that  of  the  souls  committed  to  his  charge ; 


168 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


or,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it,  "  to  save  himself 
and  those  that  hear  him,"  he  may  depend  upon 
meeting,  in  his  own  experience,  the  truths  of  that 
declaration,  "Yea,  all  that  will  live  godly  in 
Christ  Jesus  shall  suffer  persecution,"  in  one 
form  of  it  or  another.  One  of  the  most  melan- 
choly sights  we  behold  is  when  professed  chris- 
tians, through  prejudice,  join  the  world  in  throw- 
ing the  stone.  There  is,  however,  such  a  deter- 
mined enmity  to  godliness  itself  in  the  breast  of 
a  certain  class  of  men  existing  in  most  parishes, 
that,  whatever  learning  and  good  sense  is  found 
in  their  teacher — whatever  consistency  of  charac- 
ter, or  blameless  deportment  he  exhibits ;  what- 
ever benevolence  or  bounty  (like  that  which  Mr 
Newton  exercised  at  Olney)  may  constantly  ap- 
pear in  his  character  ;  such  men  remain  irrecon- 
cilable. They  will  resist  every  attempt  made  to 
appease  their  enmity.  God  alone,  who  changed 
the  hearts  of  Paul  and  Newton,  can  heal  these 
bitter  waters. 

I  recollect  to  have  heard  Mr.  Newton  say  on 
such  an  occasion,  "When  God  is  about  to  per- 
form any  great  work,  he  generally  permits  some 
great  opposition  to  it.  Suppose  Pharaoh  had 
acquiesced  in  the  departure  of  the  children  of 
Israel,  or  that  they  had  met  with  no  difficulties 
in  the  way,  they  would,  indeed,  have  passed  from 
Egypt  to  Canaan  with  ease  ;  but  they,  as  well  as 


MINISTRY  AT  QLNBT. 


169 


the  church  in  all  future  ages,  would  have  been 
great  losers.  The  wonder-working  God  would 
not  have  been  seen  in  those  extremities  which 
make  his  arm  so  visible.  A  smooth  passage  here 
would  have  made  but  a  poor  story." 

But  under  such  disorders,  Mr.  Newton,  in  no 
one  instance  that  I  ever  heard  of,  was  tempted  to 
depart  from  the  line  marked  out  by  the  precept 
and  example  of  his  Master.  He  continued  to 
rf  bless  them  that  persecuted  him,"  knowing  that 
"the  servant  of  the  Lord  must  not  strive,  but  be 
gentle  unto  all  men,  apt  to  teach,  patient."  To 
the  last  day  he  spent  among  them  he  went 
straight  forward,  "  in  meekness  instructing  those 
that  opposed,  if  God  peradventure  might  give 
them  repentance  to  the  acknowledging  the  truth." 

But,  before  we  take  a  final  leave  of  Olney,  the 
reader  must  be  informed  of  another  part  of  Mr. 
Xcwton's  labors.  He  had  published  a  volume  of 
sermons  before  he  took  orders,  dated  Liverpool, 
January  1,  1760.  In  1762  he  published  his  Omi- 
cron,  to  which  his  letters,  signed  Vigil,  were  af- 
terward annexed.  In  1764  appeared  his  narrative. 
In  1767  a  volume  of  Sermons,  preached  at  Olney. 
In  1769  his  Review  of  Ecclesiastical  History, 
ind,  in  1779,  a  volume  of  Hymns,  of  which  some 
vvere  composed  by  Mr.  Cowper,  and  distinguished 
ly  the  letter  C  prefixed  to  them.  To  these  suc- 
;eeded,  in  1781,  his  valuable  work,  Cardiphonia. 

Newtou.  1  f% 


170 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


From  Olney  Mr.  Newton  was  removed  to  the 
rectory  of  the  united  parishes  of  St.  Mary  Wool- 
noth  and  St.  Mary  Woolchurch  Haw,  Lombard- 
street,  on  the  presentation  of  his  friend,  Mr. 
Thornton. 

Some  difficulty  arose  on  Mr.  Newton's  being 
presented,  from  Mr.  Thornton's  right  of  presen- 
tation being  claimed  by  a  nobleman  j  the  ques- 
tion was,  therefore,  at  length  brought  before  the 
house  of  lords,  and  determined  in  favor  of  Mr. 
Thornton.  Mr.  Newton  preached  his  first  ser- 
mon in  these  parishes,  December  19,  1779,  from 
Eph.  4  :  15,  "  Speaking  the  truth  in  love."  It  con- 
tained an  affectionate  address  to  his  parishioners, 
and  was  directly  published  for  their  use. 

Here  a  new  and  very  distinct  scene  of  action 
and  usefulness  was  set  before  him.  Placed  in  the 
centre  of  London,,  in  an  opulent  neighborhood, 
with  connections  daily  increasing,  he  had  now  a 
course  of  service  to  pursue,  in  several  respects 
different  from  his  farmer  at  Olney.  Being,  how- 
ever, well  acquainted  with  the  word  of  God  and 
the  heart  of  man,  he  proposed  to  himself  no  new 
weapons  of  warfare  for  pulling  down  the  strong- 
holds of  sin  and  Satan  around  him.  He  per- 
ceived, indeed,  most  of  hjs  parishioners  too  in- 
tent upon  their  wealth  and  merchandise  to  pay 
much  regard  to  their  new  minister  ;  but,  since 
they  would  not  come  to  him,  he  was  determined 


MINISTRY  AT  LONDON. 


171 


)  go,  as  far  as  he  could,  to  them ;  and,  there- 
>re,  soon  after  his  institution  he  sent  a  printed 
idress  to  his  parishioners :  he  afterward  sent 
lem  another  address,  on  the  usual  prejudices 
lat  are  taken  up  against  the  Gospel.  What  ef- 
;cts  these  attempts  had  then  upon  them  does 
ot  appear ;  certain  it  is,  that  these  and  other 
cts  of  his  ministry  will  be  recollected  by  them 
hen  the  objects  of  their  present  pursuits  are 
jrgotten  or  lamented. 

I  have  heard  Mr.  Newton  speak  with  great 
ieling  on  the  circumstances  of  his  last  import- 
nt  station.  "  That  one,"  said  he,  "  of  the  most 
rnorant,  the  most  miserable,  and  the  most  aban- 
oned  of  slaves,  should  be  plucked  from  his  for- 
)rn  state  of  exile  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  at 
mgth  be  appointed  minister  of  the  parish  of  the 
rst  magistrate  of  the  first  city  in  the  world ; 
hat  he  should  there  not  only  testify  of  such 
race,  but  stand  up  as  a  singular  instance  and 
lonument  of  it ;  that  he  should  be  enabled  to 
ecord  it  in  his  history,  preaching  and  writings, 
o  the  world  at  large — is  a  fact  I  can  contem- 
late  with  admiration,  but  never  sufficiently  esti- 
late."  This  reflection,  indeed,  was  so  present 
o  his  mind  on  all  occasions  and  in  all  places, 
hat  he  seldom  passed  a  single  day  any  where 
>ut  he  was  found  referring  to  the  strange  event, 
n  one  way  or  other. 


172 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


"When  Mr.  Newton  came  to  London  he  resided 
.for  some  time  in  Charles'  Square,  Hoxton  ;  after- 
ward he  removed  to  Coleman-street  Buildings, 
where  he  continued  till  his  death.  Being  of  the 
most  friendly  and  communicative  disposition,  his 
house  was  open  to  christians  of  all  ranks  and  de- 
nominations. Here,  like  a  father  among  his  chil- 
dren, he  used  to  entertain,  encourage  and  in- 
struct his  friends,  especially  younger  ministers, 
or  candidates  for  the  ministry.  Here  also  the 
poor,  the  afflicted  and  the  tempted,  found  an  asy- 
lum and  a  sympathy  which  they  could  scarce- 
ly find,  in  an  equal  degree,  any  where  besides. 

His  timely  hints  were  often  given  with  much 
point  and  profitable  address  to  the  numerous  ac- 
quaintance who  surrounded  him  in  his  public  sta- 
tion. Some  time  after  Mr.  Newton  had  published 
his  Omicron,  and  described  the  three  stages  of 
growth  in  religion,  from  the  blade,  the  ear,  and 
the  full  corn  in  the  ear,  distinguishing  them  by 
the  letters  A,  B,  and  C,  a  conceited  young  minis- 
ter wrote  to  Mr.  Newton,  telling  him  that  he 
read  his  own  character  accurately  drawn  in  that 
of  C.  Mr.  Newton  wrote  in  reply,  that  "in  draw- 
ing the  character  of  C,  or  full  maturity,  he  had 
forgotten  to  add,  till  now,  one  prominent  feature 
of  C's  character,  namely,  that  C  never  knew  his 
own  face." 

"It  grieves  me,"  said  Mr.  Newton,  "to  see  so 


MINISTRY  IN  LONDON.  173 

<3W  of  my  wealthy  parishioners  come  to  church, 
always  consider  the  rich  as  under  greater  obli- 
ations  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  than  the 
oor.  For  at  church  the  rich  must  hear  the 
rhole  truth  as  well  as  others.  There  they  have 
o  mode  of  escape.  But  let  them  once  get  home, 
ou  will  be  troubled  to  get  at  them ;  and,  when 
ou  are  admitted,  you  are  so  fettered  with  punc- 
ilio,  so  interrupted  and  damped  with  the  frivol- 
us  conversation  of  their  friends,  that,  as  Arch- 
ishop  Leighton  says,  '  it  is  well  if  your  visit 
oes  not  prove  a  blank  or  a  blot.'  " 

Mr.  Newton  used  to  improve  every  occurrence 
rhich  he  could  with  propriety  bring  into  the 
ulpit.  One  night  he  found  a  bill  put  up  at  St. 
Iary  Woolnoth's,  upon  which  he  largely  com- 
lented  when  he  came  to  preach.  The  bill  was 
3  this  effect :  rf  A  young  man  having  come  to 
he  possession  of  a  very  considerable  fortune, 
esires  the  prayers  of  the  congregation  that  he 
lay  be  preserved  from  the  snares  to  which  it  ex- 
oses  him."  "  Now,  if  the  man,"  said  Mr.  New- 
on,  "  had  lost  a  fortune,  the  world  would  not 
ave  wondered  to  have  seen  him  put  up  a  bill, 
ut  this  man  has  been  better  taught." 

Coming  out  of  his  church  on  a  Wednesday,  a 
ady  stopped  him  on  the  steps,  and  said,  f'  The 
icket,  of  which  I  held  a  quarter,  is  drawn  a  prize 
>f  ten  thousand  pounds.  I  know  you  will  con- 

15* 


174  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


gratulate  me  upon  the  occasion."  "  Madam," 
said  he,  M  as  for  a  friend  under  temptation,  I  will 
endeavor  to  pray  for  you." 

Soon  after  he  came  to  St.  Mary's  I  remember 
to  have  heard  him  say,  in  a  certain  company, 
r'  Some  have  observed  that  I  preach  shorter  ser- 
mons on  a  Sunday  morning,  and  with  more  cau- 
tion j  but  this  I  do  upon  principle.  I  suppose  I 
may  have  two  or  three  of  my  bankers  present, 
and  some  others  of  my  parish,  who  have  hitherto 
been  strangers  to  my  views  of  truth.  I  endeavor 
to  imitate  the  apostle.  f  I  became,'  says  he,  1  all 
things  to  all  men ;'  but  observe  the  end,  it  was 
in  order  to  f  gain  some.'  The  fowler  must  go 
cautiously  to  meet  shy  birds,  but  he  will  not 
leave  his  powder  and  shot  behind  him.  r  I  have 
fed  you  with  milk,'  says  the  apostle ;  but  there 
are  some  that  are  not  only  for  forcing  strong 
meat,  but  bones  too,  down  the  throat  of  the 
child.  We  must  have  patience  with  a  single  step 
in  the  case  of  an  infant ;  and  there  are  one-step 
books  and  sermons,  which  are  good  in  their 
place.  Christ  taught  his  disciples  as  they  were 
able  to  bear ;  and  it  was  upon  the  same  principle 
that  the  apostle  accommodated  himself  to  preju- 
dice. Now,"  continued  he,  "  what  I  wish  to  re-, 
mark  on  these  considerations  is,  that  this  apos- 
tolical principle,  steadily  pursued,  will  render  a 
minister  apparently  inconsistent  j  superficial  hear- 


p  MINISTRY   IN  LONDON.  175 

ers  will  think  him  a  trimmer.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  minister,  destitute  of  the  apostolical  principle 
and  intention,  and  directing  his  whole  force  to 
preserve  the  appearance  of  consistency,  may 
thus  seem  to  preserve  it ;  but,  let  me  tell  you, 
here  is  only  the  form  of  faithfulness  without  the 
spirit." 

I  could  not  help  observing,  one  day,  how  much 
Mr.  Newton  was  grieved  with  the  mistake  of  a 
minister  who  appeared  to  pay  too  much  atten- 
tion to  politics.  "  For  my  part,"  said  he,  "  I 
have  no  temptation  to  turn  politician,  and  much 
less  to  inflame  a  party  in  these  times.  When  a 
ship  is  leaky,  and  a  mutinous  spirit  divides  the 
company  on  board,  a  wise  man  would  say,  f  My 
good  friends,  while  we  are  debating  the  water  is 
gaining  on  us — we  had  better  leave  the  debate 
and  go  to  the  pumps.'  I  endeavor,"  continued 
he,  "  to  turn  my  people's  eyes  from  instruments 
to  God.  I  am  continually  attempting  to  show 
them  how  far  they  are  from  knowing  either  the 
matter  of  fact  or  the  matter  of  right.  I  inculcate 
our  great  privileges  in  this  country,  and  advise  a 
discontented  man  to  take  a  lodging  for  a  little 
while  in  Russia  or  Prussia." 

Though  no  great  variety  of  anecdote  is  to  be 
expected  in  a  course  so  stationary  as  this  part 
of  Mr.  Newton's  life  and  ministry — for  sometimes 
the  course  of  a  single  day  might  give  the  ac- 


176 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


count  of  a  whole  year — yet  that  day  was  so  be- 
nevolently spent,  that  he  was  found  in  it  M  not 
only  rejoicing  with  those  that  rejoiced,"  but  lite- 
rally "  weeping  with  those  that  wept."  The  por- 
trait which  Goldsmith  drew  from  imagination 
Mr.  Newton  realized  in  fact,  insomuch  that  had 
Mr.  Newton  sat  for  his  picture  to  the  poet,  it 
could  not  have  been  more  accurately  delineated 
than  by  the  following  lines  in  his  Deserted 
Village  : 

"  Unskilful  he  to  fawn,  or  seek  for  power, 
M  By  doctrines  fashion'd  to  the  varying  hour  j 
"  Far  other  aims  his  heart  had  learn'd  to  prize, 
"  More  bent  to  raise  the  wretched  than  to  rise. 
"  Thus  to  relieve  the  wretched  was  his  pride, 
"  And  e'en  his  failings  lean'd  to  virtue's  side  j 
"  But  in  his  duty  prompt  at  every  call, 
u  He  watch'd  and  wept,  he  pray'd  and  felt,  for  all : 
M  And  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries 
"  To  tempt  his  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skie»". 
M  He  tried  each  art,  reprov'd  each  dull  delay, 
"  Allur'd  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way." 

I  remember  to  have  heard  him  say,  when  speak- 
ing of  his  continual  interruptions,  "  I  see  in  this 
world  two  heaps  of  human  happiness  and  misery; 
now  if  I  can  take  but  the  smallest  bit  from  one 
heap  and  add  to  the  other,  I  carry  a  point.  If,,  as 
I  go  home,  a  child  has  dropped  a  half-penny,  and 
if,  by  giving  it  another,  I  can  wipe  away  its  tears, 
I  feel  I  have  done  something.   I  should  be  glad 


MINISTRY   IN  LONDON. 


177 


indeed  to  do  greater  things,  but  I  will  not  neglect 
this.  When  I  hear  a  knock  at  my  study  door,  I 
hear  a  message  from  God ;  it  may  be  a  lesson  of 
instruction,  perhaps  a  lesson  of  patience  ;  but 
since  it  is  his  message,  it  must  be  interesting." 

But  it  was  not  merely  under  his  own  roof  that 
tiis  benevolent  aims  were  thus  exerted  j  he  was 
found  ready  to  take  an  active  part  in  relieving 
the  miserable,  directing  the  anxious,  or  recover- 
ing the  wanderer,  in  whatever  state  or  place  he 
discovered  such:  of  which  take  the  following 
nstance  : 

The  late  Dr.  Buchanan  was  a  youth  of  consi- 
derable talents,  and  had  received  a  respectable 
education.  I  am  not  informed  of  his  original 
destination  in  point  of  profession ;  but  certain  it 
m  that  he  left  his  parents  in  Scotland,  with  a  de- 
sign of  viewing  the  world  at  large  ;  and  that, 
without  those  pecuniary  resources  which  could 
render  such  an  undertaking  convenient,  or  even 
practicable.  Yet,  having  the  sanguine  expecta- 
:ions  of  youth,  together  with  its  inexperience, 
ie  determinately  pursued  his  plan.  I  have  seen 
in  account  from  his  own  hand,  of  the  strange, 
jut  by  no  means  dishonorable  resources  to  which 
le  was  reduced  in  the  pursuit  of  this  scheme  ; 
lor  can  romance  exceed  the  detail.  To  London, 
lowever,  he  came  ;  and  then  he  seemed  to  come 
:o  himself.  He  had  heard  Mr.  Newton's  character, 


178 


LIFE  OF  REV.   JOHN  NEWTON. 


and  on  a  Sunday  evening  he  came  to  St.  Mary 
Woolnoth,  and  stood  in  one  of  the  aisles  while 
Mr.  Newton  preached.  In  the  course  of  that  week 
he  wrote  to  Mr.  Newton  some  account  of  his  ad-- 
ventures  and  state  of  mind.  Such  circumstances 
eould  be  addressed  to  no  man  more  properly 
Mr.  Newton's  favorite  maxim  was  often  in  his 
mouth,  more  often  in  his  actions,  and  always  m 
his  heart ; 

Hand  ignara  mali,  missris  succurrere  disco. 
!"  Not  ignorant  of  suffering,  I  hasten  to  succor  the  wretched." 

Mr.  Newton  therefore  gave  notice  from  the  pulpit 
on  the  following  Sunday  evening,  that  if  the  per- 
son was  present  who  had  sent  him  such  a  letter, 
he  should  be  glad  to  speak  with  him. 

Mr.  Buchanan  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and 
eame  to  Mr.  Newton's  house,  where  a  friendship 
began  which  continued  till  Mr.  Newton's  death 
Mr.  Newton  not  only  afforded  this  youth  the  in- 
struction which  he  at  this  period  so  deeply  needed, 
but  marking  his  fine  abilities  and  correct  inclina- 
tion, he  introduced  him  to  Henry  Thornton,  Esq. 
who,  inheriting  his  father's  unbounded  liberality 
and  determined  adherence  to  the  cause  of  real 
religion,  readily  patronized  the  stranger.  Mr.  Bu- 
ehanan  was,  by  the  munificence  of  this  gentle- 
man, supported  through  a  university  education, 
and  was  afterward  ordained  to  a  curacy.  It  was, 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  DR.  BUCHANAN.  179 

however,  thought  expedient  that  his  talents 
should  be  employed  in  an  important  station 
abroad,  which  he  readily  undertook,  and  in 
which  he  maintained  a  very  distinguished  cha- 
racter. 

It  ought  not  to  be  concealed  that  Mr.  Bucha- 
nan, after  his  advancement,  not  only  returned  his 
patron  the  whole  expense  of  his  university  edu- 
cation, but  also  placed  in  his  hands  an  equal  sum 
for  the  education  of  some  pious  youth  who  might 
be  deemed  worthy  of  the  same  assistance  as  was 
once  afforded  to  himself. 

Mr.  Newton  used  to  spend  a  month  or  two, 
annually,  at  the  house  of  some  friend  in  the 
country ;  he  always  took  an  affectionate  leave 
of  his  congregation  before  he  departed,  and 
spoke  of  his  leaving  town  as  quite  uncertain  of 
returning  to  it,  considering  the  variety  of  inci- 
dents which  might  prevent  that  return.  Nothing 
was  more  remarkable  than  his  constant  habit  of 
regarding  the  hand  of  God  in  every  event,  how- 
ever trivial  it  might  appear  to  others.  On  every 
occasion — in  the  concerns  of  every  hour — in 
matters  public  or  private,  like  Enoch,  he  "walk- 
ed with  God."  Take  a  single  instance  of  his 
state  of  mind  in  this  respect.  In  walking  to  his 
church  he  would  say.  "  'The  way  of  man  is  not 
in  himself,'  nor  can  he  conceive  what  belongs  to 
a  single  step — when  I  go  to  St.  Mary  Woolnoth 


180 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


it  seems  the  same  whether  I  turn  down  Lothbury 
or  go  through  the  Old  Jewry ;  but  the  going 
through  one  street  arid  not  another,  may  produce 
an  effect  of  lasting  consequences.  A  man  cut 
down  my  hammock  in  sport,  but  had  he  cut  it 
down  half  an  hour  later,  I  had  not  been  here,  as 
the  exchange  of  crew  was  then  making.  A  man 
made  a  smoke  on  the  sea-shore  at  the  time  a  ship 
passed,  which  was  thereby  brought  to,  and  af- 
terward brought  me  to  England." 

Mr.  Newton  experienced  a  severe  stroke  soon 
after  he  came  to  St.  Mary's,  and  while  he  resided 
in  Charles  Square,  in  the  death  of  his  niece,  Miss 
Eliza  Cunningham.  He  loved  her  with  the  affec- 
tion of  a  parent,  and  she  was,  indeed,  truly  lovely. 
He  had  brought  her  up,  and  had  observed  that, 
with  the  most  amiable  natural  qualities,  she  pos- 
sessed real  piety.  With  every  possible  attention 
from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newton  and  their  friends,  they 
yet  saw  her  gradually  sink  into  the  arms  of  death; 
but  she  was,  through  grace,  prepared  to  meet  him 
as  a  messenger  sent  from  her  heavenly  Father,  to 
whom  she  departed,  October  6th,  1785,  aged  four- 
teen years  and  eight  months.  On  this  occasion 
Mr.  Newton  published  a  brief  memoir  of  her  cha- 
racter and  death.* 

*  This  Memoir  is  Tract  No.  83,  published  by  the  Ame- 
rican Tract  Society. 


MINISTRY  IN  LONDON. 


181 


In  the  years  1784  and  1785  Mr.  Newton  preach- 
ed a  course  of  sermons  on  an  occasion  of  which 
he  gives  the  following  account  in  his  first  dis- 
course :  "  Conversation  in  almost  every  company, 
for  some  time  past,  has  much  turned  upon  the 
commemoration  of  Handel,  and  particularly  on 
his  oratorio  of  the  Messiah.  I  mean  to  lead  your 
meditations  to  the  language  of  the  oratorio,  and 
to  consider,  in  their  order,  (if  the  Lord,  on  whom 
jur  breath  depends,  shall  be  pleased  to  afford 
life,  ability  and  opportunity,)  the  several  sublime 
md  interesting  passages  of  Scripture  which  are 
[he  basis  of  that  admired  composition."  In  the 
year  1786  he  published  these  discourses  in  two 
volumes,  octavo.  There  is  a  passage  so  original 
Ht  the  beginning  of  his  fourth  sermon,  from  MaL 
3  :  1-3,  "  The  Lord,  whom  ye  seek,  shall  suddenly 
come  to  his  temple,"  &c.  that  I  shall  transcribe 
it  for  the  use  of  such  as  have  not  seen  these  dis- 
courses ;  at  the  same  time  it  will,  in  a  few  words,, 
convey  Mr.  Newton's  idea  of  the  usual  perform- 
ance of  this  oratorio,  or  attending  its  perform- 
ance in  present  circumstances. 

"  '  Whereunto  shall  we  liken  the  people  of  this 
generation,  and  to  what  are  they  like  V  "  I  re- 
present to  myself  a  number  of  persons,  of  various 
characters,  involved  in  one  common  charge  of 
high  treason.  They  are  already  in  a  state  of 
confinement,  but  not  yet  brought  to  their  trial. 


182 


LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


The  facts,  however,  are  so  plain,  and  the  evidence 
against  them  so  strong  and  pointed,  that  there 
is  not  the  least  doubt  of  their  guilt  being  fully 
proved,  and  that  nothing  but  a  pardon  can  pre- 
serve them  from  punishment.  In  this  situation 
it  should  seem  their  wisdom  to  avail  themselves 
of  every  expedient  in  their  power  for  obtaining 
mercy :  but  they  are  entirely  regardless  of  their 
danger,  and  wholly  taken  up  with  contriving  me- 
thods of  amusing  themselves,  that  they  may  pass 
away  the  term  of  their  imprisonment  with  as 
much  cheerfulness  as  possible.  Among  other 
resources,  they  call  in  the  assistance  of  music: 
and  amidst  a  great  variety  of  subjects  in  this 
way,  they  are  particularly  pleased  with  one. 
They  choose  to  make  the  solemnities  of  their 
impending  trial,  the  character  of  their  Judge, 
the  methods  of  his  procedure,  and  the  awful 
sentence  to  which  they  are  exposed,  the  ground- 
work of  a  musical  entertainment :  and,  as  if  they 
were  quite  unconcerned  in  the  event,  their  atten- 
tion is  chiefly  fixed  upon  the  skill  of  the  com- 
poser, in  adapting  the  style  of  his  music  to  the 
very  solemn  language  and  subject  with  which, 
they  are  trifling.  The  king,  however,  out  of  his 
great  clemency  and  compassion  toward  those 
who  have  no  pity  for  themselves,  prevents  them 
with  his  goodness.  Undesired  by  them,  he  sends 
them  a  gracious  message  :  he  assures  them  that 


MINISTRY  IN  LOtfDON. 


183 


he  is  unwilling  they  should  suffer:  he  requires, 
yea,  he  entreats  them  to  submit.  He  points  out 
a  way  in  which  their  confession  and  submission 
shall  be  certainly  accepted ;  and  in  this  way, 
which  he  condescends  to  prescribe,  he  offers 
them  a  free  and  a  full  pardon.  But  instead  of 
taking  a  single  step  toward  a  compliance  with 
his  goodness,  they  set  his  message  likewise  to 
music ;  and  this,  together  with  a  description  of 
their  previous  state,  and  of  the  fearful  doom 
awaiting  them  if  they  continue  obstinate,  is  sung 
for  their  diversion,  accompanied  with  the  sound 
of  the  cornet,  flute,  harp,  sackbut,  psaltery,  dul- 
cimer, and  all  kinds  of  instruments.  Surely,  if 
such  a  case  as  I  have  supposed  could  be  found 
in  real  life,  though  I  might  admire  the  musical 
taste  of  these  people,  I  should  commiserate  their 
insensibility." 

But  "  clouds  return  after  the  rain  :"  a  greater 
loss  than  that  of  Miss  Cunningham  was  to  follow. 
Enough  has  been  said  in  these  memoirs  already 
to  show  the  more  than  ordinary  affection  Mr. 
Newton  felt  for  her  who  had  been  so  long  his 
idol,  as  he  used  to  call  her ;  of  which  I  shall  add 
3ut  one  more  instance  out  of  many  that  might 
3asily  be  collected. 

Being  with  him  at  the  house  of  a  lady  at 
31ackheath,  we  stood  at  a  window  which  had  a 
)rospect  of  Shooter's  Hill.  "  Ah,"  said  Mr.  New- 


184 


LIFE  OF  BEV.  JOlfH  KEWTON- 


ton,  M  I  remember  the  many  journeys  I  took  from 
London  to  stand  at  the  top  of  that  hill  in  order  to 
look  toward  the  part  in  which  Mrs.  Newton  then 
lived  :  not  that  I  could  see  the  spot  itself,  after 
travelling  several  miles,  for  she  lived  far  beyond 
what  I  could  see  when  on  the  hill  j  but  it  grati- 
fied me  even  to  look  toward  the  spot :  and  this  I 
did  always  once,  and  sometimes  twice  a  week." 
"  Why,"  said  I,  "  this  is  more  like  one  of  the  va- 
garies of  romance  than  of  real  life."  "  True," 
replied  he,  "  but  real  life  has  extravagances  that 
would  not  be  admitted  to  appear  in  a  well-writ- 
ten romance — they  would  be  said  to  be  out  of 
mature." 

In  such  a  continued  habit  of  excessive  attach- 
ment, it  is  evident  how  keenly  Mr.  Newton  must 
have  felt,  while  he  observed  the  progress  of  a 
threatening  disorder.  This  will  be  manifest  from 
the  following  account  which  he  published.  It  was 
added  to  his  publication,  Letters  to  a  Wife,  and 
he  entitles  it 

A  Relation  of  some  Particulars  respecting  ike 
Cause,  Progress,  and  Close  of  the  last  Illness  of 
my  late  dear  Wife. 

M  Among  my  readers  there  will  doubtless  he 
some  of  a  gentle,  sympathizing  spirit,  with  whom 
I  am  not  personally  acquainted ;  and  perhaps 


ILLNESS  OF   MRS.  NEWTON. 


1S5 


their  feelings  may  so  far  interest  them  in  my 
concerns  as  to  make  them  not  unwilling  to  read 
a  brief  account  of  my  late  great  trial. 

"  My  dear  wife  had  naturally  a  good  constitu- 
tion, and  was  favored  with  good  spirits  to  the 
last :  but  the  violent  shock  she  sustained  in  the 
year  1754,  when  I  was  suddenly  attacked  by  a  fit, 
(I  know  not  of  what  kind,)  which  left  me  no  sign 
of  life  for  about  an  hour  but  breathing,  made  as 
sudden  a  change  in  her  habit,  and  subjected  her, 
from  that  time,  to  a  variety  of  chronic  com- 
plaints. She  was  several  times  confined,  for  five 
or  six  months,  to  her  chamber,  and  often  brought 
so  low  that  her  recovery  seemed  hopeless.  I  be- 
lieve she  spent  ten  years,  out  of  the  forty  that 
she  was  spared  to  me,  (if  all  the  days  of  her  suf- 
ferings were  added  together,)  in  illness  and  pain. 
But  she  had  likewise  long  intervals  of  health. 
The  fit  I  have  mentioned  (the  only  one  I  ever 
had)  was  the  means  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  ap- 
point, in  answer  to  my  prayers,  to  free  me  from 
the  irksome  seafaring  life  in  which  I  was  till  then 
engaged,  and  to  appoint  me  a  settlement  on 
shore. 

"  Before  our  removal  from  Liverpool  she  re- 
ceived a  blow  upon  her  left  breast,  which  occa- 
sioned her  some  pain  and  anxiety  for  a  little 
time,  but  which  soon  wore  off.  A  small  lump  re- 
mained in  the  part  affected,  but  I  heard  no  more 
16* 


186 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON, 


of  it  for  many  years.  I  believe  that,  latterly,  she 
felt  more  than  I  was  aware  of;  but  her  tender- 
ness for  me  made  her  conceal  it  as  long  as  pos- 
sible. I  have  often  since  wondered  at  her  suc- 
cess, and  how  I  could  be  kept  so  long  ignorant 
of  it. 

"In  the  month  of  October,  1788,  she  applied, 
unknown  to  me,  to  a  friend  of  mine,  an  eminent 
surgeon :  her  design  was,  if  he  approved  it,  to 
submit  to  an  operation,  and  so  to  adjust  time  and 
circumstances  with  him,  that  it  might  be  perform- 
ed in  my  absence,  and  before  I  could  know  it: 
but  the  surgeon  told  her  that  the  malady  was  too 
far  advanced,  and  the  tumor  (the  size  of  which 
he  compared  to  the  half  of  a  melon)  was  too  large 
to  warrant  the  hope  of  being  extracted  without 
the  most  imminent  danger  of  her  life,  and  that  ho 
durst  not  attempt  it.  He  could  give  her  but  little 
advice,  more  than  to  keep  herself  as  quiet,  and 
her  mind  as  easy  as  possible  ;  and  little  more  en- 
couragement, than  by  saying  that  the  pains  to 
which  she  was  exposed  were  generally  rendered 
tolerable  by  the  use  of  laudanum  ;  to  which,  how- 
ever, she  had  a  dislike  little  short  of  an  antipathy. 

"  I  cannot  easily  describe  the  composure  and 
resignation  with  which  she  gave  me  this  recital 
the  next  day  after  her  interview  with  the  surgeon : 
nor  of  the  sensations  of  my  mind  while  I  heard 
it.  My  conscience  told  me  that  I  had  well  deserv- 


ILLNESS  OF  -MRS.  NEWTON. 


187. 


ed  to  be  wounded  where  I  was  most  sensible  ; 
ind  that  it  was  my  duty  to  submit  with  silence  to 
the  will  of  the  Lord.  But  I  strongly  felt  that,  un- 
less he  was  pleased  to  give  me  this  submission,  I 
was  more  likely  to  toss  like  a  wild  bull  in  a  net, 
in  defiance  of  my  better  judgment. 

M  Soon  after,  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  visit  our 
dear  adopted  daughter  with  a  dreadful  fever, 
which  at  first  greatly  affected  her  nerves,  and  af- 
terward became  putrid.  She  (Miss  Catlett)  was 
brought  very  near  to  the  grave  indeed ;  for  we 
once  or  twice  thought  her  actually  dead.  But 
He,  who  in  the  midst  of  judgment  remembers 
mercy,  restored  her,  and  still  preserves  her,  to  be 
the  chief  temporal  comfort  of  my  old  age,  and  to 
afford  me  the  greatest  alleviation  of  the  loss  I 
was  soon  to  experience,  that  the  case  could 
admit. 

M  The  attention  and  anxiety  occasioned  by  this 
heavy  dispensation,  which  lasted  during  the 
whole  of  a  very  severe  winter  ;  were  by  no  means 
suited  to  promote  that  tranquillity  of  mind  which 
my  good  friend  wished  my  dear  wife  would  en- 
deavor to  preserve.  She  was  often  much  fatigued, 
and  often  much  alarmed.  Next  to  each  other, 
this  dear  child  had  the  nearest  place,  both  in  her 
heart  and  mine.  The  effect  was  soon  apparent : 
as  the  spring  of  1789  advanced,  her  malady  ra- 
pidly increased ;  her  pains  were  almost  incessant, 


188 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


and  often  intense,  and  she  could  seldom  lie  one 
hour  in  her  bed  in  the  same  position.  Oh !  my 
heart,  what  didst  thou  then  suffer! 

"But  in  April,  the  God  who  heareth  prayer 
mercifully  afforded  relief,  and  gave  such  a  bless- 
ing to  the  means  employed,  that  her  pains  ceas- 
ed. And  though  I  believe  she  never  had  an  hour 
of  perfect  ease,  she  felt  little  of  the  distressing 
pains  incident  to  her  malady,  from  that  time  to 
the  end  of  her  life,  (which  was  about  twenty 
months,)  excepting  at  three  or  four  short  inter- 
vals, which,  taken  together,  hardly  amounted  to 
two  hours :  and  these  returns  of  anguish,  I  thought, 
were  permitted  to  show  me  how  much  I  was  in- 
debted to  the  goodness  of  God  for  exempting  her 
feelings  and  my  sympathy  from  what  would  have 
been  terrible  indeed ! 

"  In  the  close  of  the  summer  she  was  able  to 
go  to  Southampton,  and  returned  tolerably  well. 
She  was  twice  at  church  in  the  first  week  after 
she  came  home.  She  then  went  no  more  abroad, 
except  in  a  coach,  for  a  little  air  and  exercise: 
but  she  was  cheerful,  tolerably  easy,  slept  as  well 
as  most  people  who  are  in  perfect  health,  and 
could  receive  and  converse  with  her  kind  friends 
who  visited  her. 

tr  It  was  not  long  after,  that  she  began  to  have 
a  distaste  for  food,  which  continued  and  increas- 
ed ;  so  that  perhaps  her  death  was  at  last  rath- 


ILLNESS  OF  MRS.  NEWTON. 


189 


er  owing  to  weakness,  from  want  of  nourishment, 
than  to  her  primary  disorder.  Her  dislike  was, 
first,  to  butcher's  meat,  of  which  she  could  bear 
neither  the  sight  nor  the  smell.  Poultry  and  fish 
in  their  turns  became  equally  distasteful.  She  re- 
tained some  relish  for  small  birds  awhile  after 
she  had  given  up  the  rest  j  but  it  was  at  a  season 
when  they  were  difficult  to  be  obtained.  I  hope 
I  shall  always  feel  my  obligations  to  the  kind 
friends  who  spared  no  pains  to  procure  some  for 
her  when  they  were  not  to  be  had  in  the  markets. 
At  that  time  I  set  more  value  upon  a  dozen  of 
larks  than  upon  the  finest  ox  in  Smithfield.  But 
her  appetite  failed  to  these  also,  wThen  they  be- 
came more  plentiful. 

"  Under  this  trying  discipline  I  learnt,  more 
sensibly  than  ever,  to  pity  those  whose  sufferings, 
of  a  similar  kind,  are  aggravated  by  poverty.  Our 
distress  was  not  small,  yet  we  had  every  thing 
within  reach  that  could,  in  any  degree,  conduce 
to  her  refreshment  or  relief ;  and  Ave  had  faithful 
and  affectionate  servants,  who  were  always  will- 
ingly engaged  to  their  power,  yea,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  beyond  their  power,  in  attending  and  as- 
sisting her,  by  night  and  by  day.  What  must  be 
the  feelings  of  those  who,  when  afflicted  with 
grievous  diseases,  pine  away,  unpitied,  unnoticed, 
without  help,  and,  in  a  great  measure  destitute 
of  common  necessaries  1  This  reflection,  among 


190  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


others,  contributed  to  quiet  my  mind,  and  to 
convince  me  that  I  had  still  much  more  cause 
for  thankfulness  than  for  complaint. 

"  For  about  a  twelvemonth  of  her  confinement 
her  spirits  were  good,  her  patience  was  exem- 
plary, and  there  was  a  cheerfulness  in  her  looks 
and  her  language  that  was  wonderful.  Often  the 
liveliness  of  her  remarks  has  forced  a  smile  from 
us  when  the  tears  were  in  our  eyes.  Whatever 
little  contrivances  she  formed  for  her  amuse- 
ment, in  the  course  of  the  day,  she  would  attend 
to  nothing  till  she  had  finished  her  stated  read* 
ing  of  the  Scripture,  in  which  she  employed  much 
time  and  great  attention.  I  have  her  Bible  by 
me,  (which  I  would  not  part  with  for  half  the  ma- 
nuscripts in  the  Vatican,)  in  which  almost  every 
principal  text,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of 
the  book,  is  marked  in  the  margin  with  a  pencil 
by  her  own  dear  hand.  The  good  word  of  Goo 
was  her  medicine  and  her  food,  while  she  waa 
able  to  read  it.  She  read  Dr.  Watts'  Psalms  and 
Hymns,  and  the  Olney  Hymns,  in  the  same  man- 
ner. There  are  few  of  them  in  which  one,  two, 
or  more  verses,  are  not  thus  marked  j  and  in  ma- 
ny, which  I  suppose  she  read  more  frequently, 
every  verse  is  marked. 

"But  in  October  the  enemy  was  permitted,  for 
a  while,  to  take  advantage  of  her  bodily  weak- 
ness, to  disturb  the  peace  and  serenity  of  her 


ILLNES3  OF   MRS.  NEWTON. 


191 


mind.  Her  thoughts  became  clouded  and  confus- 
»d ;  and  she  gradually  lost,  not  only  the  com- 
fortable evidence  of  her  own  interest  in  the  pre- 
vious truths  of  the  Bible,  but  she  lost  all  hold  of 
the  truth  itself.   She  doubted  the  truth  of  the 
Bible,  or  whether  truth  existed ;  and,  together 
with  this,  she  expressed  an  extreme  reluctance 
ho  death,  and  could  not  easily  bear  the  most  dis- 
'  Lant  hint  of  her  approaching  end,  though  we  were 
i  expecting  it  daily  and  hourly.  This  was  the  acme, 
ihe  highwater-mark  of  my  trial :  this  was  hard  to 
Dear  indeed. 

My  readers,  perhaps,  will  scarcely  believe 
:hat  I  derived  some  consolation,  during  this  pe- 
riod, from  perceiving  that  her  attachment  to  me 
I  was  very  sensibly  abated.  She  spoke  to  me  with 
'  m  indifference,  of  which,  a  little  before,  she  was 
incapable.  If,  when  the  Lord's  presence  was  with- 
drawn, and  she  could  derive  no  comfort  from  his 
word,  she  had  found  some  relief  from  my  being 
with  her,  or  from  hearing  me  speak,  I  should  have 
been  more  grieved.  Her  affection  to  me,  con- 
firmed by  so  many  proofs,  in  the  course  of  forty 
years,  was  not  to  be  impeached  by  this  tempora- 
ry suspension  of  its  exercise.  I  judged  the  same 
of  the  frame  of  her  mind,  as  to  her  spiritual  con- 
cerns :  I  ascribed  them  both  to  the  same  cause — 
!ier  bodily  weakness,  and  the  power  of  tempta- 
tion.  She  was  relieved,  in  both  respects,  after 


192 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


about  a  fortnight  spent  in  conflict  and  dismay. 
The  Lord  restored  peace  to  her  soul,  and  then 
her  former  tenderness  to  me  immediately  revived. 
Then,  likewise,  she  could  calmly  speak  of  her 
approaching  dissolution.  She  mentioned  some 
particulars  concerning  her  funeral,  and  our  do- 
mestic concerns,  with  great  composure.  But  her 
mind  was  not  so  fully  restored  to  its  former  tone 
as  to  give  her  freedom  to  enlarge  upon  her  hopes 
and  views,  as  I  had  wished,  till  near  her  dissolu- 
tion ;  and  then  she  was  too  low  to  speak  at  all. 

M  One  addition  to  our  trial  yet  remained.  It 
had  been  her  custom,  when  she  went  from  her 
sofa  to  her  bed,  to  exert  herself  for  my  encou- 
ragement, to  show  me  how  well  she  could  walk. 
But  it  pleased  the  Lord  that,  by  some  alteration, 
which  affected  her  spine,  she  was  disabled  from 
moving  herself ;  and  other  circumstances  render- 
ed it  extremely  difficult  to  move  her.  It  has  taken 
five  of  us  nearly  two  hours  to  remove  her  from 
one  side  of  the  bed  to  the  other,  and,  at  times, 
even  this  was  impracticable :  so  that  she  has  lain 
more  than  a  week  exactly  in  the  same  spot,  with- 
out the  possibility  of  changing  her  position.  All 
this  was  necessary  on  my  account.  ^ie  rod  had 
a  voice,  and  it  was  the  voice  of  the  Lord.  I  un- 
derstood the  meaning  no  less  plainly  than  if  he 
had  spoken  audibly  from  heaven,  and  said,  ff  Now 
contemplate  your  idol.    Now  see  what  she  if 


ILLNESS  OF  MRS.  NEWTON- 


193 


whom  you  once  presumed  to  prefer  to  Me!" 
Even  this  bitter  cup  was  sweetened  by  the  pa- 
tience and  resignation  which  he  gave  her.  When 
I  have  said,  "You  suffer  greatly,"  her  answer 
usually  was,  "I  suffer,  indeed,  but  not  greatly." 
And  she  often  expressed  her  thankfulness  that, 
though  her  body  was  immoveable,  she  was  still 
permitted  the  use  of  her  hands. 

"  One  of  the  last  sensible  concerns  she  felt, 
respecting  this  world,  was  when  my  honored 
friend,  patron  and  benefactor,  the  late  John 
Thornton,  Esq.  of  Clapham,  was  removed  to  a 
better.  She  revered  and  regarded  him,  I  believe, 
more  than  she  did  any  person  upon  earth :  and 
she  had  reason.  Few  had  nearer  access  to  know 
and  admire  his  character;  and  perhaps  none 
were  under  greater,  if  equal,  obligations  to  him 
than  we.  She  knew  of  his  illness,  but  was  always 
afraid  to  inquire  after  the  event ;  nor  should  I 
have  ventured  to  inform  her,  but  that  the  occa- 
sion requiring  me  to  leave  her  for  four  or  five 
hours,  when  I  hardly  expected  to  find  her  alive 
at  my  return,  I  was  constrained  to  give  her  the 
reason  of  my  absence.  She  eagerly  replied,  fC  Go 
by  all  means  ;  I  would  not  have  you  stay  with 
me  upon  any  consideration."  I  put  the  funeral 
iring  I  was  favored  with  into  her  hands  ;  she  put 
it  first  to  her  lips,  and  then  to  her  eyes,  bedew- 
ing it  with  her  tears.   I  trust  they  soon  met 

Newton.  1 7 


194?  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

again.  But  she  survived  him  more  than  a  month 
"  Her  head  became  so  affected  that  I  could  dc 
little  more  than  sit  and  look  at  her.  Our  inter 
course  by  words  was  nearly  broken  off.  Sh( 
could  not  easily  bear  the  sound  of  the  gentles 
foot  upon  the  carpet,  nor  of  the  softest  voice 
On  Sunday,  the  12th  of  December,  when  I  wa 
preparing  for  church  in  the  morning,  she  sent  fo 
me,  and  we  took  a  final  farewell,  as  to  this  world 
She  faintly  uttered  an  endearing  appellation 
which  was  familiar  to  her,  and  gave  me  her  hand 
which  I  held,  while  I  prayed  by  her  bedside.  W 
,  exchanged  a  few  tears  j  but  I  was  almost  as  un 
able  to  speak  as  she  was.  But  I  returned  soo 
after,  and  said,  f  If  your  mind,  as  I  trust,  is  in 
state  of  peace,  it  will  be  a  comfort  to  me  if  yo 
can  signify  it  by  holding  up  your  hand.'  Sh 
held  it  up,  and  wavepl  it  to  and  fro  several  time; 

"  That  evening  her  speech,  her  sight,  and 
believe,  her  hearing,  wholly  failed.  She  cont 
nued  perfectly  composed,  without  taking  notic 
of  any  thing,  or  discovering  any  sign  of  pain  c 
uneasiness,  till  Wednesday  evening  toward  seve 
o'clock.  She  then  began  to  breathe  very  hare 
her  breathing  might  be  called  groaning,  for 
was  heard  in  every  part  of  the  house ;  but  I  h 
lieve  it  was  entirely  owing  to  the  difficulty  c 
respiration,  for  she  lay  quite  still,  with  a  plac 
countenance,  as  if  in  a  gentle  slumber.  Thei 


DEATH  OF  MRS.  NEWTON. 


195 


.vas  no  start  or  struggle,  nor  a  feature  ruffled.  I 
ook  my  post  by  her  bed-side,  and  watched  her 
learly  three  hours,  with  a  candle  in  my  hand, 
ill  I  saw  her  breathe  her  last,  on  the  15th  of  De- 
•ember,  1790,  a  little  before  ten  in  the  evening. 

ff  When  I  was  sure  she  was  gone  I  took  off  her 
*ing,  according  to  her  repeated  injunction,  and 
3ut  it  upon  my  own  finger.  I  then  kneeled  down 
with  the  servants  who  were  in  the  room,  and  re- 
turned the  Lord  my  unfeigned  thanks  for  her 
leliverance,  and  her  peaceful  dismission. 

"How  wonderful  must  be  the  moment  after 
ieath!  What  a  transition  did  she  then  experi- 
ance  !  She  was  instantly  freed  from  sin,  and  all 
its  attendant  sorrows,  and,  I  trust,  instantly  ad- 
mitted to  join  the  heavenly  choir.  That  moment 
was  remarkable  to  me  likewise.  It  removed  from 
me  the  chief  object  which  made  another  day  or 
hour  of  life,  as  to  my  own  personal  concern,  de- 
sirable. At  the  same  time  it  set  me  free  from  a 
weight  of  painful  feelings  and  anxieties,  under 
which  nothing  short  of  a  divine  power  could 
have  so  long  supported  me. 

"  I  believe  it  was  about  two  or  three  months 
before  her  death,  when  I  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  room,  offering  disjointed  prayers  from 
i  heart  torn  with  distress,  that  a  thought  sudden- 
ly struck  me  with  unusual  force,  to  this  effect : 
The  promises  of  God  must  be  true  ;  surely  the 


196  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

Lord  will  help  me,  if  I  am  willing  to  be  helped! 
It  occurred  to  me  that  we  are  often  led,  from  a 
vain  complacence  in  what  we  call  our  sensibility, 
to  indulge  that  unprofitable  grief  which  both  our 
duty  and  our  peace  require  us  to  resist  to  the  ut- 
most of  our  power.  I  instantly  said  aloud,  1  Lord, 
I  am  helpless  indeed  in  myself,  but  I  hope  I  am 
willing,  without  reserve,  that  thou  shouldst  help 
me.' 

K  It  had  been  much  upon  my  mind,  from  the 
beginning  of  this  trial,  that  I  was  a  minister,  and 
that  the  eyes  of  many  were  upon  me  ;  that  my 
turn  of  preaching  had  very  much  led  me  to  en- 
deavor to  comfort  the  afflicted,  by  representing 
the  Gospel  as  a  catholicon,  affording  an  effectual 
remedy  for  every  evil,  a  full  compensation  for 
every  want  or  loss  to  those  who  truly  receive  it ; 
so  that  though  a  believer  may  be  afflicted,  he 
cannot  be  properly  unhappy,  unless  he  gives  way 
to  self-will  and  unbelief.  I  had  often  told  my 
hearers  that  a  state  of  trial,  if  rightly  improved, 
was,  to  the  christian,  a  post  of  honor,  affording 
the  fairest  opportunity  of  exemplifying  the  pow- 
er of  divine  grace,  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  the 
Giver.  It  had  been,  therefore,  my  frequent  daily 
prayer  that  I  might  not,  by  impatience  or  des- 
pondency, be  deprived  of  the  advantage  my 
situation  afforded  me,  of  confirming  by  my  own 
practice  the  doctrine  which  I  had  preached  to 


DEATH  OF  MRS.  NEWTON. 


197 


others  ;  and  that  I  might  not  give  them  occasion 
to  apply  to  me  the  words  of  Eliphaz  to  Job,  chap. 
4  :  4,  5,  "  Thy  words  have  upholden  him  that  was 
falling,  and  thou  hast  strengthened  the  feeble 
knees;  but  now  it  is  come  upon  thee,  and  thou 
faintest ;  it  toucheththee,  and  thou  art  troubled!" 
And  I  had  not  prayed  in  vain.  But  from  the 
time  that  I  so  remarkably  felt  myself  willing  to 
be  helped,  I  might  truly  say,  to  the  praise  of  the 
Lord  my  heart  trusted  in  him,  and  I  was  helped 
indeed.  Through  the  whole  of  my  painful  trial 
I  attended  all  my  stated  and  occasional  services 
as  usual;  and  a 'stranger  would  scarcely  have 
discovered,  either  by  my  words  or  looks,  that  I 
was  in  trouble.  .Many  of  our  intimate  friends 
were  apprehensive  that  this  long  affliction,  and 
especially  the  closing  event,  would  have  over- 
whelmed me ;  but  it  was  far  otherwise.  It  did 
not  prevent  me  from  preaching  a  single  sermon, 
and  I  preached  on  the  day  of  her  death. 

"  After  she  was  gone,  my  willingness  to  be 
helped,  and  my  desire  that  the  Lord's  goodness 
to  me  might  be  observed  by  others,  for  their  en- 
couragement, made  me  indifferent  to  some  laws 
of  established  custom,  the  breach  of  which  jis 
often  more  noticed  than  the  violation  of  God's 
commands.  I  was  afraid  of  sitting  at  home,  and 
indulging  myself,  by  poring  over  my  loss ;  and 
therefore  I  was  seen  in  the  street,  and  visited 
17* 


198 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTOX. 


some  of  my  serious  friends  the  very  next  day. 
I  likewise  preached  three  times  while  she  lay 
dead  in  the  house.  Some  of  my  brethren  kindly 
offered  their  assistance;  but  as  the  Lord  .was 
pleased  to  give  me  strength,  both  of  body  and 
mind,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  stand  up  in  my 
place  as  formerly.  And  after  she  was  deposited 
in  the  vault  I  preached  her  funeral  sermon,*  with 
little  more  sensible  emotion  than  if  it  had  been 
for  another  person.  I  have  reason  to  hope  that 
many  of  my  hearers  were  comforted  and  animat- 
ed under  their  afflictions,  by  what  they  saw  of 
the  Lord's  goodness  to  me  in  my  time  of  need. 
And  I  acknowledge  that  it  was  well  worth  stand- 
ing a  while  in  the  fire,  for  such  an  opportunity 
of  experiencing  and  exhibiting  the  power  and 
faithfulness  of  his  promises. 

*'  I  was  not  supported  by  lively  sensible  consola- 
tions, but  by  being  enabled  to  realize  to  my  mind 
some  great  and  leading  truths  of  the  word  of  God. 
I  saw,  what  indeed  I  knew  before,  but  never  till 
then  so  strongly  and  clearly  perceived,  that,  as 
a  sinner,  I  had  no  righty  and  as  a  believer,  I  could 
have  no  reason  to  complain.  I  considered  her  as 
a  k)an,  which  He  who  lent  her  to  me  had  a  right. 

*  From  a  text  which  I  had  reserved  from  my  first  en- 
trance on  the  ministry,  for  this  particular  service,  if  1 
should  survive  her,  and  be  able  to  speak. 


DEATH  OF  MRS.  NEWTON. 


199 


to  resume  whenever  he  pleased ;  and  that  as  I 
had  deserved  ^o  forfeit  her  every  day,  from  the 
first,  it  became  me  rather  to  be  thankful  that  she 
was  spared  so  long  to  me,  than  to  resign  her 
with  reluctance  when  called  for.  Farther,  that 
his  sovereignty  was  connected  with  infinite  wis- 
dom and  goodness,  and  that,  consequently,  if  it 
were  possible  for  me  to  alter  any  part  of  his 
plan,  I  could  only  spoil  it ;  that  such  a  short- 
sighted creature  as  I,  so  blind  to  the  possible  con- 
sequences of  my  own  wishes,  was  not  only  un- 
worthy, but  unable  to  choose  well  for  himself; 
and  that  it  was  therefore  my  great  mercy  and 
privilege  that  the  Lord  condescended  to  choose 
for  me.  May  such  considerations  powerfully  af- 
fect the  hearts  of  my  readers  under  their  troubles^ 
and  then  I  shall  not  regret  having  submitted  to 
the  view  of  the  public  a  detail  which  may  seem 
more  proper  for  the  subject  of  a  private  letter  to 
a  friend.  They  who  can  feel,  will,  I  hope,  excuse 
me :  and  it  is  chiefly  for  their  sakes  that  I  have 
written  it. 

When  my  wife  died  the  world  seemed  to  die 
with  her,  (I  hope,  to  revive  no  more.)  I  see  little 
now  but  my  ministry  and  my  christian  profession 
to  make  a  continuance  in  life  for  a  single  day  de- 
sirable ;  though  I  am  willing  to  wait  my  appoint- 
ed time.  If  the  world  cannot  restore  her  to  me 
(not  that  I  have  the  remotest  wish  that  her  return 


200 


LTFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


was  possible)  it  can  do  nothing  for  me.  The 
Bank  of  England  is  too  poor  to  compensate  for 
such  a  loss  as  mine.  But  the  Lord,  the  all-suffi- 
cient God,  speaks,  and  it  is  done.  Let  .those  who 
know  him,  and  trust  him,  be  of  good  courage. 
He  can  give  them  strength  according  to  their 
day ;  he  can  increase  their  strength  as  their 
trials  are  increased,  to  any  assignable  degree. 
And  what  he  can  do,  he  has  promised  he  will  do. 
The  power  and  faithfulness  on  which  the  suc- 
cessive changes  of  day  and  night,  and  of  the 
seasons  of  the  year  depend,  and  which  uphold 
the  stars  in  their  orbits,  are  equally  engaged  to 
support  his  people,  and  to  lead  them  safely  and 
unhurt  (if  their  path  be  so  appointed)  through 
floods  and  flames.  Though  I  believe  she  has 
never  yet  been  (and  probably  never  will  be)  out 
of  my  waking  thoughts  for  five  minutes  at  a 
time,  though  I  sleep  in  the  bed  in  which  she  suf- 
fered and  languished  so  long,  I  have  not  had  one 
uncomfortable  day,  nor  one  restless  night  since 
she  left  me.  I  have  lost  a  right  hand,  which  I 
cannot  but  miss  continually,  but  the  Lord  enables 
me  to  go  on  cheerfully  without  it. 

"May  his  blessing  rest  upon  the  reader  !  May 
glory,  honor  and  praise  be  ascribed  to  his  great 
and  holy  name,  now  and  for  ever  !  Amen." 


DEATH  OF  MRS.  NEWTON. 


201 


Anes  composed  by  Mr.  Newton,  and  sung  after  the  funeral 
sermon  of  Mrs.  Newton. 

Habakkuk,  3  :  17,  18. 

M  The  earth,  with  rich  abundance  stor'd, 

To  answer  all  our  wants, 
Invites  our  hearts  to  praise  the  Lord 

For  what  his  bounty  grants. 

"  Flocks,  herds  and  corn,  and  grateful  fruit, 

His  gracious  hand  supplies  ; 
And  while  our  various  tastes-  they  suit, 

Their  prospect  cheers  our  eyes. 

"  To  these  he  adds  each  tender  tie 

Of  sweet  domestic  life; 
Endearing  joys,  the  names  imply, 

Of  parent,  husband,  wife. 

11  But  sin  has  poisoned  all  below; 

Our  blessings  burdens  prove  ; 
On  ev'ry  hand  we  suffer  wo, 

But  most  where  most  we  love. 

Jf«r  vintage,  harvest,  flocks  nor  herds, 
Can  fill  the  heart's  desire  ; 
And  oft  a  worm  destroys  our  gourds, 
And  all  our  hopes  expire. 

"  Domestic  joys,  alas !  how  rare ! 

Possessed  and  known  by  few  ! 
And  they  who  know  them,  find  they  are 

As  frail  and  transient  too. 

11  But  you  who  love  the  Savior's  voice, 

And  rest  upon  his  name, 
Amidst  these  changes  may  rejoice, 

For  he  is  still  the  same. 


202 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


"  The  Lord  himself  will  soon  appear 
Whom  you,  unseen,  adore  ; 

Then  he  will  wipe  offevery  tear, 
And  you  shall  weep  no  more." 


Mr.  Newton  made  this  remark  on  her  death, 
ff  Just  before  Mrs.  Newton's  disease  became  so 
formidable,  I  was  preaching  on  the  waters  of 
Egypt  being  turned  into  blood.  The  Egyptians 
had  idolized  their  river,  and  God  made  them 
loath  it.  I  was  apprehensive  it  would  soon  be  a 
similar  case  with  me."  During  the  very  affect- 
ing season  of  Mrs.  Newton's  dissolution,  Mr. 
Newton,  like  David,  wept  and  prayed ;  but  the 
desire  of  his  eyes  being  taken  away  by  the 
stroke,  he  too,  like  David,  "arose  from  the 
earth,  and  came  into  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  and 
worshipped,"  and  that  in  a  manner*  which  sur- 
prised some  of  his  friends. 

Besides  which,  Mr.  Newton  had  a  favorite  sen- 
timent which  I  have  heard  him  express  in  differ- 
ent ways,  long  before  he  had  so  special  an  occa- 
sion for  illustrating  it  in  practice.  "  God,  in  his 
providence,"  he  used  to  say,  M  is  continually 
bringing  about  occasions  to  demonstrate  charac- 
ters." He  used  to  instance  the  case  of  Achan 
and  Judas  among  bad  men  ;  and  that  of  St.  Paul, 


MINISTRY  IN  LONDON.  203 

Acts,  27,  among  good  ones.  "  If  any  one,"  said 
he,  "  had  asked  the  centurion  who  Paul  the 
prisoner  was  that  sailed  with  them  on  board  the 
ship  1  it  is  probable  he  would  have  thus  replied, 
'  He  is  a  troublesome  enthusiast,  who  has  lately 
joined  himself  to  a  certain  sect.  These  people 
affirm  that  a  Jewish  malefactor,  who  was  cruci- 
fied some  years  ago  at  Jerusalem,  rose  the  third 
day  from  the  dead ;  and  this  Paul  is  mad  enough 
to  assert  that  Jesus,  the  leader  of  their  sect,  is 
not  only  now  alive,  but  that  he  himself  has  seen 
him,  and  is  resolved  to  live  and  die  with  him — ■ 
Poor  crazy  creature  !'  But  God  made  use  of  this 
occasion  to  discover  the  real  character  of  Paul, 
and  taught  the  centurion,  from  the  circumstances 
which  followed,  to  whom  it  was  he  owed  his 
direction  in  the  storm,  and  for  whose  sake  he 
received  his  preservation  through  it." 

In  all  trying  occasions,  therefore,  Mr.  Newton 
was  particularly  impressed  with  the  idea  of  a 
christian,  and  especially  of  a  christian  minister, 
being  called  to  stand  forward  as  an  example  to 
his  flock — to  feel  himself  placed  in  a  post  of  ho- 
nor— a  post  in  which  he  may  not  only  glorify 
God,  but  also  forcibly  demonstrate  the  peculiar 
supports  of  the  Gospel.  More  especially  when 
this  could  be  done  (as  in  his  own  case)  from  no 
doubtful  motive ;  then  it  may  be  expedient  to 
leave  the  path  of  ordinary  custom,  for  the  greater 


204  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

reason  of  exhibiting  both  the  doctrines  of  trutji 
and  the  experience  of  their  power. 

Though  I  professedly  publish  none  of  Mr. 
Newton's  letters,  yet  I  shall  take  the  liberty  to 
insert  part  of  one,  with  which  I  am  favored  by 
J.  Forbes,  Esq.  of  Stanmore  Hill,  written  to  him 
while  at  Rome,  and  dated  December  5th,  1796. 
It  shows  the  interest  which  the  writer  took  in 
the  safety  of  his  friend,  and  his  address  in  at- 
tempting to  break  the  enchantments  with  which 
men  of  taste  are  surrounded,  when  standing  in 
the  centre  of  the  fine  arts. 

"  The  true  christian,  in  strict  propriety  of 
speech,  has  no  home  here ;  he  is,  and  must  be, 
a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim  upon  earth :  his  citizen- 
ship, treasure  and  real  home,  are  in  a  better 
world ;  and  every  step  he  takes,  whether  to  the 
east  or  to  the  west,  is  a  step  nearer  to  his  Fa- 
ther's house.  On  the  other  hand,  when  in  the 
path  of  duty,  he  is  always  at  home ;  for  the 
whole  earth  is  the  Lord's :  and  as  we  see  the 
same  sun  in  England  or  Italy,  in  Europe  or  Asia, 
so  wherever  he  is,  he  equally  sets  the  Lord 
always  before  him,  and  finds  himself  equally 
near  the  throne  of  grace  at  all  times  and  in 
all  places.  God  is  every  where,  and,  by  faith  in 
the  great  Mediator,  he  dwells  in  God,  and  God 
in  him."  To  him  that  line  of  Horace  may  be 
applied  in  the  best  sense, 


HIS  DEATH. 


217 


of  my  age,  do,  for  the  settling  of  my  temporal 
concerns,  and  for  the  disposal  of  all  the  worldly 
estate  which  it  hath  pleased  the  Lord  in  his  good 
providence  to  give  me,  make  this  my  last  Will 
and  Testament  as  follows.  I  commit  my  soul 
to  my  gracious  God  and  Savior,  who  mercifully 
spared  and  preserved  me  when  I  was  an  apostate, 
a  blasphemer  and  an  infidel ;  and  delivered  me 
from  that  state  of  misery  on  the  coast  of  Africa 
into  which  my  obstinate  wickedness  had  plunged 
me ;  and  who  has  been  pleased  to  admit  me 
(though  most  unworthy)  to  preach  his  glorious 
Gospel.  I  rely  with  humble  confidence  upon 
the  atonement  and  mediation  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  God  and  man,  which  I  have  often  pro- 
posed to  others  as  the  only  foundation  where- 
on a  sinner  can  build  his  hope  ;  trusting  that  he 
will  guard  and  guide  me  through  the  uncertain 
remainder  of  my  life,  and  that  he  will  then  admit 
me  into  his  presence  in  his  heavenly  kingdom. 
I  would  have  my  body  deposited  in  the  vault  un- 
der the  parish  church  of  Saint  Mary  Woolnoth, 
close  to  the  coffins  of  my  late  dear  wife  and  my 
dear  niece,  Elizabeth  Cunningham ;  and  it  is  my 
desire  that  my  funeral  may  be  performed  with 
as  little  expense  as  possible,  consistent  with 
decency." 


Newton. 


19 


218 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


MR.  NEWTON'S  CHARACTER. 

There  seems  to  be  little  need  of  giving  a  ge- 
neral character  of  Mr.  Newton  after  the  particu- 
lars which  appear  in  the  foregoing  memoirs.  He 
unquestionably  was  the  child  of  a  peculiar  provi- 
dence, in  every  step  of  his  progress;  and  his  deep 
sense  of  the  extraordinary  dispensation  through 
which  he  had  passed  was  the  prominent  topic  in 
his  conversation.  Those  who  personally  knew 
the  man,  could  have  no  doubt  of  the  probity  with 
which  his  "Narrative"  (singular  as  it  *may  ap- 
pear) was  written.  They,  however,  who  could 
not  view  the  subject  of  these  memoirs  so  nearly 
as  his  particular  friends  did,  may  wish  to  learn 
something  further  of  his  character  with  respect 

tO  his  LITERARY  ATTAINMENTS  his  MINISTRY  his 

FAMILY   HABITS  his   WRITINGS— and  his  FAMILIAR 

CONVERSATION. 

Of  his  literature,  we  learn  from  his  ft  Narra- 
tive "  what  he  attained  in  the  learned  languages ; 
and  that,  by  almost  incredible  efforts.  Few  men 
have  undertaken  such  difficulties  under  such  dis- 
advantages* It,  therefore,  seems  more  extraordi- 
nary that  he  should  have  attained  so  much,  than 
that  he  should  not  have  acquired  more.  Nor  did 
he  quit  his  pursuits  of  this  kind,  but  in  order  to 


HIS  CHARACTER.  219 

gain  that  knowledge  which  he  deemed  much  more 
important.  Whatever  he  conceived  had  a  tenden- 
cy to  qualify  him,  as  a  scribe  xocll  instructed  in  the 
kingdom  of  God,  bringing  out  of  his  treasury 
things  new  and  old — I  say,  in  pursuit  of  this 
point,  he  might  have  adopted  the  apostle's  ex- 
pression, One  thing  I  do.  By  a  principle  so  sim- 
ply and  firmly  directed,  he  furnished  his  mind 
with  much  information :  he  had  consulted  the 
best  old  divines ;  had  read  the  moderns  of  repu- 
tation with  avidity ;  and  was  continually  watch- 
ing whatever  might  serve  for  analogies  or  illus- 
trations in  the  service  of  religion.  "  A  minis- 
ter," he  used  to  say,  Kt  wherever  he  is,  should  be 
always  in  his  study.  He  should  look  at  every 
man,  and  at  every  thing,  as  capable  of  affording 
him  some  instruction."  His  mind,  therefore,  was 
ever  intent  on  his  calling — ever  extracting  some- 
thing even  from  the  basest  materials  which  he 
could  turn  into  gold. 

In  consequence  of  this  incessant  attention  to 
this  object,  while  many  (whose  early  advantages 
greatly  exceeded  his)  might  excel  Mr.  Newton 
in  the  knowledge  and  investigation  of  some  cu- 
rious abstract,  but  very  unimportant  points  ;  he 
vastly  excelled  them  in  points  of  infinitely  higher 
importance  to  man: — In  the  knowledge  of  God, 
of  his  word,  and  of  the  human  heart  in  its  wants 
and  resources,  Newton  would  have  stood  among 


220  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN'  NEWTON. 

mere  scholars,  as  his  namesake  the  philosopher 
stood  in  science  among  ordinary  men.  I  might 
say  the  same  of  some  others  who  have  set  out 
late  in  the  profession  5  but  who,  with  a  portion 
of  Mr.  Newton's  piety  and  ardor,  have  greatly 
outstripped  those  who  have  had  every  early  ad- 
vantage and  encouragement :  men  with  specious 
titles  and  high  connections  have  received  the  re- 
wards ;  while  men,  like  Newton,  without  them, 
have  done  the  work. 

With  respect  to  his  ministry,  he  appeared,  per- 
haps, to  least  advantage  in  the  pulpit ;  as  he  did 
not  generally  aim  at  accuracy  in  the  composition 
of  his  sermons,  nor  at  any  address  in  the  delivery 
of  them.  His  utterance  was  far  from  clear,  and 
his  attitudes  ungraceful.  He  possessed,  however, 
so  much  affection  for  his  people,  and  so  much 
zeal  for  their  best  interests,  that  the  defect  of 
his  manner  was  of  little  consideration  with  his 
constant  hearers:  at  the  same  time,  his  capacity 
and  habit  of  entering  into  their  trials  and  expe- 
rience, gave  the  highest  interest  to  his  ministry 
among  them.  Besides  which,  he  frequently 
interspersed  the  most  brilliant  allusions ;  and 
brought  forward  such  happy  illustrations  of  his 
subject,  and  those  with  so  much  unction,  on  his 
own  heart,  as  melted  and  enlarged  theirs.  The 
parent-like  tenderness  and  affection  which  ac- 
companied his  instruction,  made  them  prefer  him 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


to  preachers,  who,  on  other  accounts,  were  much 
more  generally  popular. 

It  ought  also  to  be  noted,  that,  amidst  the 
extravagant  notions  and  unscriptural  positions 
which  have  sometimes  disgraced  the  religious 
world,  Mr.  Newton  never  departed,  in  any  in- 
stance, from  soundly  and  seriously  promulgating 
the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints ;  of  which 
his  writings  will  remain  the  best  evidence.  His 
doctrine  was  strictly  that  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, urged  on  the  consciences  of  men  in  the 
most  practical  and  experimental  manner.  "  I 
hope,"  said  he  one  day  to  me,  smiling,  "  I  hope 
I  am,  upon  the  whole,  a  scriptural  preacher  ;  for 
I  find  I  am  considered  as  an  Armenian  among 
the  high  Calvinists,  and  as  a  Calvin ist  among  the 
strenuous  Armenians." 

I  never  observed  any  thing  like  bigotry  in  his 
ministerial  character ;  though  he  seemed,  at  all 
times,  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of  order  and  its 
good  effects  in  the  ministry.  He  had  formerly 
been  intimately  connected  with  some  highly  re- 
spectable ministers  among  the  dissenters,  and  re- 
tained a  cordial  regard  for  many  to  the  last.  He 
considered  the  strong  prejudices  which  attach  to 
both  Churchmen  and  Dissenters,  as  arising  more 
from  education  than  from  principle.  But,  being 
himself  both  a  clergyman  and  an  incumbent  in 
the  Church  of  England,  he  wished  to  be  consist  - 

19* 


222 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


ent.  In  public,  therefore,  he  felt  he  could  not 
act  with  some  ministers,  whom  he  thought  truly- 
good  men,  and  to  whom  he  cordially  wished 
success  in  their  endeavors;  and  he  patiently 
met  the  consequence.  They  called  him  a  bigot; 
and  he,  in  return,  prayed  for  them,  that  they 
might  not  be  really  such. 

He  had  formerly  taken  much  pains  in  compos- 
ing his  sermons,  as  I  could  perceive  in  one  MS. 
which  I  looked  through :  and,  even  latterly,  I  have 
known  him,  whenever  he  felt  it  necessary,  pro- 
duce admirable  plans  for  the  pulpit.  I  own  I 
thought  his  judgment  deficient,  in  not  deeming 
such  preparation  necessary  at  all  times.  I  have 
sat  in  pain,  when  he  has  spoken  unguardedly  in 
this  way  before  young  ministers  ;  men,  who,  with 
but  comparatively  slight  degrees  of  his  informa- 
tion and  experience,  would  draw  encouragement 
to  ascend  the  pulpit  with  but  little  previous  study 
of  their  subject.  A  minister  is  not  to  be  blamed, 
who  cannot  rise  to  qualifications  which  some  of 
his  brethren  have  attained ;  but  he  is  certainly 
bound  to  improve  his  own  talent  to  the  utmost 
of  his  power :  he  is  not  to  cover  his  sloth,  his 
love  of  company,  or  his  disposition  to  attend  a 
wealthy  patron,  with  the  pretence  of  depending 
entirely  on  divine  influence.  Timothy  had  as  good 
ground,  at  least,  for  expecting  such  influence  as 
any  of  his  successors  in  the  ministry ;  and  yet 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


223 


the  apostle  admonishes  him  to  give  attendance  to 
reading,  to  exhortation,  and  to  doctrine — to  neglect 
not  the  gift  that  was  in  him — to  meditate  upon 
these  things — to  give  himself  wholly  to  them,  that 
his  profiting  might  appear  to  all. 

Mr.  Newton  regularly  preached  on  the  Sunday 
morning  and  evening  at  St.  Mary  Woolnoth,  and 
also  on  the  Wednesday  morning.  After  he  was 
turned  of  seventy  he  often  undertook  to  assist 
other  clergymen  ;  sometimes,  even  to  the  preach- 
ing of  six  sermons  in  the  space  of  a  week.  What 
was  more  extraordinary,  he  continued  his  usual 
course  of  preaching  at  his  own  church  after  he 
was  fourscore  years  old,  and  that,  when  he  could 
no  longer  see  to  read  his  text !  His  memory  and 
voice  sometimes  failed  him  ;  but  it  was  remarked, 
that,  at  this  great  age,  he  was  nowhere  more 
collected  or  lively  than  in  the  pulpit.  He  was 
punctual  as  to  time  with  his  congregation.  Every 
first  Sunday  evening  in  the  month  he  preached 
on  relative  duties.  Mr.  Alderman  Lea  regularly 
sent  his  carriage  to  convey  him  to  the  church, 
and  Mr.  Bates  sent  his  servant  to  attend  him  in 
the  pulpit ;  which  friendly  assistance  was  con- 
tinued till  Mr.  Xewton  could  appear  no  longer 
in  public. 

His  ministerial  visits  were  exemplary.  I  do  not 
recollect  one,  though  favored  with  many,  in  which 
his  general  information  and  lively  genius  did  not 


224 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


communicate  instruction,  and  his  affectionate  and 
condescending  sympathy  did  not  leave  comfort. 

Truth  demands  it  should  be  said,  that  he  did 
not  always  administer  consolation,  nor  give  an 
account  of  characters,  with  sufficient  discrimina- 
tion. His  talent  did  not  lie  in  discerning  of  spirits. 
I  never  saw  him  so  much  moved,  as  when  any 
friend  endeavored  to  correct  his  errors  in  this 
respect.  His  credulity  seemed  to  arise  from  the 
consciousness  he  had  of  his  own  integrity ;  and 
from  that  sort  of  parental  fondness  which  he  bore 
to  all  his  friends,  real  or  pretended.  I  knew  one, 
since  dead,  whom  he  thus  described,  while  liv- 
ing— "  He  is  certainly  an  odd  man,  and  has  his 
failings ;  but  he  has  great  integrity,  and  I  hope  he 
is  going  to  heaven :"  whereas,  almost  all  who 
knew  him  thought  the  man  should  go  first  into 
the  pillory ! 

In  his  family,  Mr.  Newton  might  be  admired 
more  safely  than  imitated.  His  excessive  attach- 
ment to  Mrs.  Newton  is  so  fully  displayed  in  his 
^  Narrative,"  and  confirmed  in  the  two  volumes 
he  thought  it  proper  to  publish,  entitled,  "  Let- 
ters to  a  Wife,"  that  the  reader  will  need  no  in- 
formation on  this  subject.  Some  of  his  friends 
wished  this  violent  attachment  had  been  cast 
more  into  the  shade  ;  as  tending  to  furnish  a  spur, 
where  human  nature  generally  needs  a  curb.  He 
used,  indeed,  to  speak  of  such  attachments,  in 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


225 


the  abstract,  as  idolatry;  though  his  own  was 
providentially  ordered  to  be  the  main  hinge  on 
which  his  preservation  and  deliverance  turned, 
while  in  his  worst  state.  Good  men,  however, 
cannot  be  too  cautious  how  they  give  sanction, 
by  their  expressions  or  example,  to  a  passion, 
which,  when  not  under  sober  regulation,  has  over- 
whelmed not  only  families,  but  states,  with  dis- 
grace and  ruin. 

With  his  unusual  degree  of  benevolence  and 
affection,  it  was  not  extraordinary  that  the  spi- 
ritual interests  of  his  servants  were  brought  for- 
ward, and  examined  severally  every  Sunday  af- 
ternoon: nor  that,  being  treated  like  children, 
they  should  grow  old  in  his  service.  In  short, 
Mr.  Newton  could  live  no  longer  than  he  could 
love :  it  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  if  his  nieces  had 
more  of  his  heart  than  is  generally  afforded  to 
their  own  children  by  the  fondest  parents.  It  has 
already  been  mentioned  that  his  house  was  an 
asylum  for  the  perplexed  or  afflicted.  Young  mi- 
nisters were  peculiarly  the  objects  of  his  atten- 
tion: he  instructed  them;  he  encouraged  them ; 
he  warned  them ;  and  might  truly  be  said  to  be  a 
father  in  Christ,  spending  and  being  spent,  for  the 
interest  of  his  church.  In  order  thus  to  execute 
the  various  avocations  of  the  day,  he  used  to  rise 
early :  he  seldom  was  found  abroad  in  the  even- 
ing, and  was  exact  in  his  appointments. 


226 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


Of  his  writings,  I  think  little  needs  to  be  said 
here  ;  they  are  in  wide  circulation,  and  best  speak 
for  themselves. 

The  ft  Sermons"  which  Mr.  Newton  published 
at  Liverpool,  after  being  refused  on  his  first  ap- 
plication for  orders,  were  intended  to  show  what 
he  would  have  preached,  had  he  been  admitted: 
they  are  highly  creditable  to  his  understanding 
and  to  his  heart.  The  facility  with  which  he  at- 
tained so  much  of  the  learned  languages  seems 
partly  accounted  for,  from  his  being  able  to  ac- 
quire so  early,  a  neat  and  natural  style  in  his  own 
language,  and  that  under  such  evident  disadvan- 
tages. His  f'  Review  of  Ecclesiastical  History.  ' 
so  far  as  it  proceeded,  has  been  much  esteemed; 
and,  if  it  had  done  no  more  than  excite  the  Rev. 
Joseph  Milner  (as  that  most  valuable  and  instruc- 
tive author  informs  us  it  did)  to  pursue  Mr.  New- 
ton's idea  more  largely,  it  was  sufficient  success 
Before  this,  the  world  seems  to  have  lost  sight 
of  a  history  of  real  Christianity  ;  and  to  have  been 
content  with  what,  for  the  most  part,  was  but  an 
account  of  the  ambition  and  politics  of  secular 
men  assuming  the  christian  name. 

It  must  be  evident  to  any  one  who  observes 
the  spirit  of  all  his  Sermons,  Hymns,  Tracts,  &c 
that  nothing  is  aimed  at  which  should  be  met 
by  critical  investigation.  In  the  preface  to  his 
Hymns,  he  remarks,    Though  I  would  not  offend 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


227 


leaders  of  taste  by  a  wilful  coarseness  and  negli- 
gence, I  do  not  write  professedly  for  them.  I  have 
simply  declared  my  own  views  and  feelings,  as  I 
might  have  done  if  I  had  composed  hymns  in 
some  of  the  newly  discovered  islands  in  the  South 
^ea,  where  no  person  had  any  knowledge  of  the 
name  of  Jesus  but  myself." 

To  dwell,  therefore,  with  a  critical  eye  on  this 
part  of  his  public  character  would  be  absurd  and 
impertinent :  it  would  be  to  erect  a  tribunal  to 
which  he  seems  not  amenable.  He  appears  to 
have  paid  no  regard  to  a  nice  ear,  or  an  accurate 
reviewer ;  but  preferring  a  style  at  once  neat  and 
perspicuous,  to  have  laid  out  himself  entirely  for 
the  service  of  the  Church  of  God,  and  more  es- 
pecially for  the  tried  and  experienced  part  of  its 
members. 

His  chief  excellence,  as  a  writer,  seemed  to  lie 
in  the  easy  and  natural  style  of  his  epistolary 
correspondence.  His  letters  will  be  read  while 
real  religion  exists ;  and  they  are  the  best  draught 
of  his  own  mind. 

He  had  so  largely  communicated  with  his 
friends  in  this  way,  that  I  have  heard  him  say, 
he  thought  if  his  letters  were  collected  they 
would  make  several  folios.  He  selected  many  of 
these  for  publication;  and  expressed  a  hope  that 
?no  other  person  would  take  that  liberty  with  the 
rest,  which  were  so  widely  spread  abroad.  In 


228  LIFE  OF  EEV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 

this,  however,  he  was  disappointed  and  grieved  \ 
as  he  once  remarked  to  me :  and  for  which  rea- 
son I  do  not  annex  any  letters  that  I  received  from 
him.  He  esteemed  that  collection  published  un- 
der the  title  of  r<  Cardiphonia,"  as  the  most  useful 
of  his  writings,  and  mentioned  various  instances 
of  the  benefits  which  he  heard  they  had  conveyed 
to  many. 

His  "  Apologia,"  or  defence  of  conformity,  was 
written  on  occasion  of  some  reflections  (perhaps 
only  jocular)  cast  on  him  at  that  time.  His  "Let- 
ters to  a  Wife,"  written  during  his  three  voyages 
to  Africa,  and  published  in  1793,  have  been 
received  with  less  satisfaction  than  most  of  his 
other  writings.  While,  however,  his  advanced 
age  and  inordinate  fondness  may  be  pleaded  for 
this  publication,  care  should  be  taken  lest  men 
fall  into  a  contrary  extreme ;  and  suppose  that 
temper  to  be  their  wisdom,  whicn  leads  them  to 
avoid  another,  which  they  consider  as  his  weak- 
ness. But  his  "Messiah,"  before  mentioned,  his 
Letters  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Vanlier,  Chaplain  at  the 
Cape — his  Memoirs  of  the  Rev.  John  Cowper, 
(brother  to  the  poet,)  and  those  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Grimshaw,  of  Yorkshire,  together  with  his  single 
sermons  and  tracts,  have  been  well  received,  and 
will  remain  a  public  benefit. 

I  recollect  reading  a  MS.  which  Mr.  Newton 
lent  me,  containing  a  correspondence  that  had 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


229 


passed  between  himself  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dixon, 
Principal  of  St.  Edmund  Hall,  Oxford ;  and  an- 
other MS.  of  a  correspondence  between  him  and 
;  the  late  Rev.  Martin  Madan.  They  would  have 
i  been  very  interesting  to  the  public,  particularly 
|  the  latter  5  and  were  striking  evidences  of  Mr. 
•  Newton's  humility,  piety  and  faithfulness :  but 
I  reasons  of  delicacy  led  him  to  commit  the  whole 
to  the  flames. 

To  speak  of  his  writings  in  the  mass,  they  cer- 
tainly possess  what  many  have  aimed  at,  but  very 
jfew  attained,  namely,  originality.  They  are  the 
1  language  of  the  heart:  they  .show  a  deep  expe- 
dience of  its  religious  feelings  5  a  continual  anx- 
liety  to  sympathize  with  man  in  his  wants,  and  to 
I  direct  him  to  his  only  resources. 

His  conversation  and  familiar  habits  with  his 
friends  were  more  peculiar,  amusing  and  instruc- 
tive, than  any  I  ever  witnessed.  It  is  difficult  to 
i  convey  a  clear  idea  of  them  by  description.  I 

■  venture,  therefore,  to  add  a  few  pages  of  what  I 

■  may  call  his  Table-Talk,  which  I  took  down  at 
different  times,  both  in  company  and  in  private, 

t  rom  his  lips.  Such  a  collection  of  printed  re- 
)  narks  will  not  have  so  much  point,  as  when 
spoken  in  connection  with  the  occasions  that  pro- 
duced them :  they  must  appear  to  considerable 
disadvantage,  thus  detached  5  and  candid  allow- 
mce  should  be  made  by  the  reader  on  this  ac- 

Newton.  20 


230  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MEWTON. 

count.  They,  however,  who  had  the  privilege  of 
Mr.  Newton's  conversation  when  living,  cannot 
but  recognise  the  speaker  in  most  of  them,  and 
derive  both  profit  and  pleasure  from  these  re- 
mains of  their  late  valuable  friend ;  and  such  as 
had  not,  will  (if  I  do  not  mistake)  think  them  the 
most  valuable  part  of  this  book. 


REMARKS 

MADE  BY  MR.  NEWTON  IN  FAMILIAR  CONVERSATION, 

While  the  mariner  uses  the  loadstone,  the  phi- 
losopher may  attempt  to  investigate  the  cause ; 
but  after  all,  in  steering  through  the  ocean,  he 
can  make  no  other  use  of  it  than  the  mariner. 

If  an  angel  were  sent  to  find  the  most  per- 
fect man,  he  would  probably  not  find  him  com- 
posing a  body  of  divinity,  but  perhaps  a  cripple 
in  a  poor  house,  whom  the  parish  wish  dead,  and 
humbled  before  God  with  far  lower  thoughts  of 
himself  than  others  have  of  him. 

When  a  christian  goes  into  the  world  because 
he  sees  it  is  his  ca//,  yet,  while  he  feels  it  also 
his  cross,  it  will  not  hurt  him. 


FAMILIAR  REMARKS. 


231 


Satan  will  seldom  come  to  a  christian  with  a 
gross  temptation:  a  green  log  and  a  candle  may 
be  safely  left  together  ;  but  bring  a  few  shavings, 
then  some  small  sticks,  and  then  larger,  and  you 
may  soon  bring  the  green  log  to  ashes. 

If  two  angels  were  sent  from  heaven  to  execute 
a  divine  command,  one  to  conduct  an  empire,  and 
the  other  to  sweep  a  street  in  it,  they  would  feel 
»  no  inclination  to  change  employments. 

What  some  call  providential  openings  are  often 
>  powerful  temptations ;  the  heart,  in  wandering, 
I  cries,  Here  is  a  way  opened  before  me: — but, 
t  perhaps,  not  to  be  trodden  but  rejected. 

I  should  have  thought  mowers  very  idle  peo- 
ple ;  but  they  work  while  they  whet  their  scythes. 
Now  devotedness  to  God,  whether  it  mows  or 
whets  the  scythe,  still  goes  on  with  the  work. 

A  christian  should  never  plead  spirituality  for 
being  a  sloven ;  if  he  be  but  a  shoe-cleaner,  he 
should  be  the  best  in  the  parish. 

My  course  of  study,  like  that  of  a  surgeon,  has 
principally  consisted  in  walking  the  hospital. 

My  principal  method  of  defeating  heresy,  is 
by  establishing  truth.  One  proposes  to  fill  a 
bushel  with  tares ;  now  if  I  can  fill  it  first  with 
wheat,  I  shall  defy  his  attempts. 

When  some  people  talk  of  religion,  they  mean 
•  they  have  heard  so  many  sermons,  and  perform- 
l  ed  so  many  devotions,  and  thus  mistake  the  means 


232 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


for  the  end.  But  true  religion  is  an  habitual  re- 
collection of  God  and  intention  to  serve  him,  and 
this  turns  every  thing  into  gold.  We  are  apt  to 
suppose  that  we  need  something  splendid  to 
evince  our  devotion,  but  true  devotion  equals 
things — washing  plates  and  cleaning  shoes  is  a 
high  office,  if  performed  in  a  right  spirit.  If  three 
angels  were  sent  to  earth,  they  would  feel  per- 
fect indifference  who  should  perform  the  part  of 
prime  minister,  parish  minister,  or  watchman. 

When  a  ship  goes  to  sea,  among  a  vast  variety 
of  its  articles  and  circumstances,  there  is  but  one 
object  regarded,  namely,  doing  the  business  of  the 
voyage:  every  bucket  is  employed  with  respect 
to  that. 

Many  have  puzzled  themselves  about  the  ori- 
gin of  evil ;  I  observe  there  is  evil,  and  that  there 
is  a  way  to  escape  it,  and  with  this  I  begin  and  end. 

Consecrated  things  under  the  law  were  first 
sprinkled  with  blood,  and  then  anointed  with  oil, 
and  thenceforward  were  no  more  common.  Thus 
under  the  Gospel,  every  christian  has  been  a 
common  vessel  for  profane  purposes  5  but  when 
sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  anointed 
by  God  the  Father,  (2  Cor.  1 : 21,)  he  becomes 
separated  and  consecrated  to  God. 

I  would  not  give  a  straw  for  that  assurance 
which  sin  will  not  damp.  If  David  had  come 
from  his  adultery,  and  had  talked  of  Lis  assu- 


FAMILIAR  REMARKS. 


233 


ranee  at  that  time,  I  should  have  despised  his 
speech. 

A  spirit  of  adoption  is  the  spirit  of  a  child ;  he 
may  disoblige  his  father,  yet  he  is  not  afraid  of 
being  turned  out  of  doors :  the  union  is  not  dis- 
solved, though  the  communion  is.  He  is  not  well 
with  his  father,  therefore  must  be  unhappy,  as 
their  interests  are  inseparable. 

We  often  seek  to  apply  cordials  when  the  pa- 
tient is  not  prepared  for  them,  and  it  is  the  pa- 
tient's advantage,  that  he  cannot  take  a  medicine 
when  prematurely  offered.  When  a  man  comes 
to  me  and  says,  "I  am  quite  happy,"  I  am  not 
sorry  to  find  him  come  again  with  some  fears. 
I  never  saw  a  work  stand  well  without  a  check. 
{f  I  only  want,"  says  one,  H  to  be  sure  of  being 
safe,  and  then  I  will  go  on."  No  ;  perhaps,  then 
you  will  go  off. 

For  an  old  christian  to  say  to  a  young  one, 
rr  Stand  in  my  evidence,"  is  like  a  man  who  has 
with  difficulty  climbed  by  a  ladder  or  scaffold- 
ing to  the  top  of  the  house,  and  cries  to  one 
at  the  bottom,  M  This  is  a  place  for  a  prospect — 
come  up  at  a  step." 

A  christian  in  the  world  is  like  a  man  who  has 
had  a  long  intimacy  with  one,  whom  at  length  he 
finds  out  to  have  been  the  murderer  of  a  kind 
father ;  the  intimacy,  after  this,  will  surely  be 
broken. 


20* 


234 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


<r  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see 
the  kingdom  of  God."  A  man  may  live  in  a  deep 
mine  in  Hungary,  never  having  seen  the  light  of 
the  sun;  he  may  have  received  accounts  of  pros 
pects,  and  by  the  help  of  a  candle  may  have  ex 
amined  a  few  engravings  of  them  ;  but  let  him  be 
brought  out  of  the  mine,  and  set  on  the  mountain, 
what  a  difference  appears  ! 

Candor  will  always  allow  much  for  inexpe- 
rience. I  have  been  thirty  years  forming  my  own 
views,  and  in  the  course  of  this  time  some  of  my 
hills  have  been  sinking,  and  some  of  my  valleys 
have  risen  ;  but  how  unreasonable  would  it  be  tc 
expect  all  this  should  take  place  in  another  per 
son,  and  that  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  two. 

Candor  forbids  us  to  estimate  a  character  froir 
its  accidental  blots.  Yet  it  is  thus  that  David  and 
others  have  been  treated. 

There  is  the  analogy  of  faith :  it  is  a  master-key 
which  not  only  opens  particular  doors,  but  carries 
you  through  the  whole  house  ;  but  an  attach- 
ment to  a  rigid  system  is  dangerous.  Luther  once 
turned  out  the  epistle  of  St.  James,  because  it 
disturbed  his  system.  I  shall  preach,  perhaps, 
very  usefully  upon  two  seemingly  opposite  texts 
while  kept  apart ;  but  if  I  attempt  nicely  to  re 
concile  them,  it  is  ten  to  one  if  I  don't  begin  U 
bungle. 

I  can  conceive  a  living  man  without  an  arm  or 


FAMILIAR  REMARKS. 


235 


leg,  but  not  without  a  head  or  a  heart ;  so  there 
are  some  truths  essential  to  vital  religion,  and 
which  all  awakened  souls  are  taught. 

Apostacy,  in  all  its  branches,  takes  its  rise 
from  atheism.  "I  have  set  the  Lord  always 
before  me,"  &c. 

We  are  surprised  at  the  fall  of  a  famous  pro- 
fessor* but,  in  the  sight  of  God  he  was  gone  be- 
fore ;  it  is  only  we  that  have  now  first  discovered 
it.  "  He  that  despiseth  small  things,  shall  fall  by 
little  nnd  little." 

There  are  critical  times  of  danger.  After  great 
i  services,  honors  and  consolations,  we  should 
stand  upon  our  guard.  Noah,  Lot,  David,  Solo- 
mon, fell  in  these  circumstances.  Satan  is  a  foot- 
pad :  a  footpad  will  not  attack  a  man  in  going  to 
the  bank,  but  in  returning  with  his  pocket  full  of 
money. 

A  christian  is  like  a  young  nobleman,  who,  on 
going  to  receive  his  estate,  is  at  first  enchanted 
with  its  prospects ;  this  in  a  course  of  time  may 
wear  off,  but  a  sense  of  the  value  of  the  estate 
grows  daily. 

When  we  first  enter  into  the  divine  life,  we 
propose  to  grow  rich ;  God's  plan  is  to  make  us 
feel  poor. 

Good  men  have  need  to  take  heed  of  building 
upon  groundless  impressions.  Mr.  Whitfield  had 
a  son  who,  he  imagined,  was  born  to  be  a  very 


236 


LIFE  OF   KEY.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


extraordinary  man  ;  but  the  son  soon  died,  and 
the  father  was  cured  of  his  mistake. 

I  remember,  in  going  to  undertake  the  care  of 
a  congregation,  I  was  reading  as  I  walked  in  a 
green  lane,  M  Fear  not,  Paul,  I  have  much  people 
in  this  city."  But  I  soon  afterward  was  disap- 
pointed in  finding  that  Paul  was  not  John,  and 
that  Corinth  was  not  Warwick. 

Christ  has  taken  our  nature  into  heaven  to  re« 
present  us  ;  and  has  left  us  on  earth  with  his  na- 
ture to  represent  him. 

Worldly  men  will  be  true  to  their  principles ; 
and  if  we  were  as  true  to  ours,  the  visits  between 
the  two  parties  would  be  short  and  seldom. 

A  christian  in  the  world  is  like  a  man  transact- 
ing his  affairs  in  the  rain.  He  will  not  suddenly 
leave  his  client  because  it  rains  ;  but  the  moment 
the  business  is  done,  he  is  off:  as  it  is  said  in  the 
Acts,  "  Being  let  go,  they  went  to  their  own 
company." 

God's  word  is  certainly  a  restraint  ;  but  it  is 
such  a  restraint  as  the  irons  which  prevent  chil- 
dren from  getting  into  the  fire. 

God  deals  with  us  as  we  do  with  our  children; 
he  first  speaks,  then  gives  a  gentle  stroke,  at  last 
a  blow. 

The  religion  of  a  sinner  stands  on  two  pillars, 
namely,  what  Christ  did  for  us  in  his  flesh,  and 
what  he  performs  in  us  by  his  Spirit.    Most  er 


FAMILIAR  REMARKS. 


237 


rors  arise  from  an  attempt  to  separate  these  two. 

Man  is  not  taught  any  thing  to  purpose  till  God 
becomes  his  teacher,  and  then  the  glare  of  the 
world  is  put  out,  and  the  value  of  the  soul  rises 
in  full  view.  A  man's  present  sentiments  may  not 
be  accurate,  but  we  make  too  much  of  sentiments. 
We  pass  a  held  with  a  few  blades,  we  call  it  a 
i j eld  of  wheat ;  but  here  is  no  wheat ;  no,  not  in 
perfection,  but  wheat  is  sown,  and  full  ears  may 
be  expected. 

Contrivers  of  sytems  on  the  earth  are  like  con- 
trivers of  systems  in  the  heavens  ;  Avhere  the  sun 
and  moon  keep  the  same  course  in  spite  of  the 
philosophers. 

I  endeavor  to  walk  through  the  world  as  a 
physician  goes  through  Bedlam :  the  patients 
make  a  noise,  pester  him  with  impertinence,  and 
hinder  him  in  his  business;  but  he  does  the  best 
he  can,  and  so  gets  through. 

A  man  always  in  society  is  one  always  on  the 
spend  ;  on  the  other  hand,  a  mere  solitary  is  at 
his  best  but  a  candle  in  an  empty  room. 

If  we  were  upon  the  watch  for  improvement, 
the  common  news  of  the  day  would  furnish  it; 
the  falling  of  the  tower  in  Siloam,  and  the  slaugh- 
ter of  the  Galileans,  were  the  news  of  the  day 
which  our  Lord  improved. 

The  generality  make  out  their  righteousness 
by  comparing  themselves  with  some  others  whom 


238 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


they  think  worse ;  thus  a  woman  of  the  town, 
who  was  in  the  Lock  Hospital,  was  offended  at  a 
minister  speaking  to  her  as  a  sinner,  because  she 
had  never  picked  a  pocket. 

Take  away  a  toy  from  a  child  and  give  him 
another,  and  he  is  satisfied;  but  if  he  be  hun- 
gry, no  toy  will  do.  Thus,  as  new-born  babes, 
true  believers  desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the 
word;  and  the  desire  of  grace  in  this  way  is 
grace. 

One  said  that  the  great  saints  in  the  calendar 
were  many  of  them  poor  sinners ;  Mr.  Newton 
replied  they  were  poor  saints  indeed,  if  they  did 
not  feel  that  they  were  great  sinners. 

A  wise  man  looks  upon  men  as  he  does  upon 
horses,  and  considers  their  caparisons  of  title, 
wealth  and  place,  but  as  harness. 

The  force  of  what  we  deliver  from  the  pulpit 
is  often  lost  by  a  starched,  and  what  is  frequently 
called  a  correct  style  ;  and,  especially,  by  adding 
meretricious  ornaments.  I  called  upon  a  lady  who 
had  been  robbed,  and  she  gave  me  a  striking  ac- 
count of  the  fact ;  but  had  she  put  it  into  heroics, 
I  should  neither  so  well  have  understood  her, 
nor  been  so  well  convinced  that  she  had  been 
robbed. 

When  a  man  says  he  received  a  blessing  un- 
der a  sermon,  I  begin  to  inquire  the  character  of 
the  man  who  speaks  of  the  help  he  has  received. 


FAMILIAR  REMARKS. 


239 


The  Roman  people  proved  the  effect  they  re- 
ceived under  a  sermon  of  Antony,  when  they 
flew  to  avenge  the  death  of  Caesar. 

The  Lord  has  reason  far  beyond  our  ken,  for 
opening  a  wide  door  while  he  stops  the  mouth  of 
I  a  useful  preacher.  John  Bunyan  would  not  have 
<  done  half  the  good  he  did  if  he  had  remained 
preaching  in  Bedford  instead  of  being  shut  up  in 
Bedford  prison. 

If  I  could  go  to  France,  and  give  every  man 
I  in  it  a  right  and  peaceable  mind  by  my  labor,  I 

0  should  have  a  statue:  but,  to  produce  such  an 
-  effect  in  the  conversion  of  one  soul,  would  be  a 

1  far  greater  achievement. 

Ministers  would  over-rate  their  labors,  if  they 
I  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  be  born,  and  spend 
I  ten  thousand  years  in  labor  and  contempt,  to  re- 
cover one  soul. 

Do  not  tell  me  of  your  feelings.  A  traveller 
would  be  glad  of  fine  weather,  but  if  he  be  a  man 
of  business,  he  will  go  on.  Bunyan  says,  You 
must  not  judge  of  a  man's  haste  by  his  horse,  for 
when  the  horse  can  hardly  move  you  may  see,  by 
the  rider's  urging  him,  what  a  hurry  he  is  in. 

A  man  and  a  beast  may  stand  upon  the  same 
mountain,  and  even  touch  one  another ;  yet  they 
are  in  two  different  worlds :  the  beast  perceives 
nothing  but  the  grass  ;  but  the  man  contemplates 
the  prospect,  and  thinks  of  a  thousand  remote 


240 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


things.  Thus  a  christian  may  be  solitary  at  a  full 
exchange :  he  can  converse  with  the  people  there 
upon  trade,  politics  and  the  stocks ;  but  they 
cannot  talk  with  him  upon  the  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding. 

It  is  a  mere  fallacy  to  talk  of  the  sins  of  a  short 
life.  The  sinner  is  always  a  sinner.  Put  a  pump 
into  a  river,  you  may  throw  out  some  water,  but 
the  river  remains. 

Professors  who  own  the  doctrines  of  free 
grace,  often  act  inconsistently  with  their  own 
principles  when  they  are  angry  at  the  defects 
of  others. 

We  should  take  care  that  we  do  not  make  our 
profession  of  religion  a  receipt  in  full  for  all  other 
obligations.  A  man  truly  illuminated  will  no  more 
despise  others  than  Bartimeus,  after  his  own  eyes 
were  opened,  would  take  a  stick  and  beat  every 
blind  man  he  met. 

We  much  mistake,  in  supposing  that  the  re- 
moval of  a  particular  objection  would  satisfy  the 
objector.  Suppose  I  am  in  bed,  and  want  to  know 
whether  it  be  light,  it  is  not  enough  if  I  draw 
back  the  curtain ;  for  though  there  be  light,  I 
must  have  eyes  to  see  it. 

Too  deep  a  consideration  of  eternal  realities 
might  unfit  a  man  for  his  present  circumstances. 
Walking  through  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  or 
Bedlam,  must  deeply  affect  a  feeling  mind  j  but, 


MINISTRY  IN  LONDON. 


205 


Ccelum,  non  animum  mutant,  qui  trans  mare  currant  * 

"  1  trust,  my  dear  sir,  that  you  will  carry  out 
and  bring  home  with  you,  a  determination  simi- 
lar to  that  of  the  patriarch  Jacob,  who  vowed  a 
vow,  saying,  *  If  God  will  be  with  me,  and  will 
keep  me  in  the  way  that  I  go,  and  will  give  me 
bread  to  eat,  and  raiment  to  put  on,  so  that  I 
come  again  to  my  father's  house  in  peace,  then 
shall  the  Lord  be  my  God !'  May  the  Lord  him- 
self write  it  on  your  heart ! 

"  You  are  now  at  Rome,  the  centre  of  the  fine 
arts ;  a  place  abounding  with  every  thing  to  gra- 
tify a  person  of  your  taste.  Athens  had  the  pre- 
eminence in  the  apostle  Paul's  time  ;  and  I  think 
it  highly  probable,  from  many  passages  in  his 
writings,  that  he  likewise  had  a  taste  capable  of 
admiring  and  relishing  the  beauties  of  painting) 
sculpture  and  architecture,  which  he  could  not 
but  observe  during  his  abode  in  that  city:  but 
then  he  had  a  higher,  a  spiritual,  a  divine  taste, 
which  was  greatly  shocked  and  grieved  by  the 
ignorance,  idolatry  and  wickedness,  which  sur- 
rounded him,  insomuch  that  he  could  attend  to 
nothing  else.  This  taste,  which  cannot  be  ac- 
quired by  any  effort  or  study  of  ours,  but  is 
freely  bestowed  on  all  who  sincerely  ask  it  of 

*  They  who  cross  the  ocean  change  their  sky  but  not  the 
emotions  of  the  soul. 


Newton. 


18 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


the  Lord,  divests  the  vanities,  which  the  world 
admire,  of  their  glare  ;  and  enables  us  to  judge 
of  the  most  splendid  and  specious  works  of  men, 
who  know  not  God,  according  to  the  declaration 
of  the  prophet,  '  They  hatch  cockatrice  eggs, 
and  weave  the  spider's  web.'  Much  ingenuity  is 
displayed  in  the  weaving  of  a  cobweb,  but  when 
finished,  it  is  worthless  and  useless:  incubation 
requires  close  diligence  and  attention;  if  the 
hen  is  too  long  from  her  nest,  the  egg  is  spoil- 
ed ;  but  why  should  she  sit  at  all  upon  the  egg, 
and  watch  it,  and  warm  it  night  and  day,  if  it 
only  produces  a  cockatrice  at  last!  Thus  vanity 
and  mischief  are  the  chief  rulers  of  unsanctified 
genius ;  the  artists  spin  webs,  and  the  philoso- 
phers, by  their  learned  speculations,  hatch  cock- 
atrices, to  poison  themselves  and  their  fellow- 
creatures  :  few  of  either  sort  have  one  serious 
thought  ®f  that  awful  eternity  upon  the  brink  of 
which  they  stand  for  a  while,  and  into  the  depth 
of  which  they  successively  fall. 

"  A  part  of  the  sentence  denounced  against 
the  city,  which  once  stood  upon  seven  hills,  is  so 
pointed  and  graphical  that  I  must  transcribe  it: 
f  And  the  voice  of  harpers,  and  musicians,  and 
pipers,  and  trumpeters,  shall  be  heard  no  more 
at  all  in  thee  ;  and  no  craftsman,  of  whatsoever 
craft  he  be,  shall  be  found  any  more  in  thee, 
and  the  light  of  a  candle  shall  no  more  be  seen 


MINISTRY   IN  LONDON. 


207 


in  thee.'  Now,  I  am  informed,  that  upon  certain 
occasions  the  whole  cupola  of  St.  Peter's  is 
covered  with  lamps,  and  affords  a  very  magnifi- 
cent spectacle :  if  I  saw  it,  it  would  remind  me 
of  that  time  when  there  will  not  be  the  shining 
of  a  single  candle  in  the  city ;  for  the  sentence 
must  be  executed,  and  the  hour  may  be  ap- 
proaching. 

"  You  kindly  inquire  after  my  health  :  myself 
and  family  are,  through  the  Divine  favor,  perfect- 
ly well ;  yet,  healthy  as  I  am,  I  labor  under  a 
growing  disorder,  for  which  there  is  no  cure  ;  I 
mean  old  age.  I  am  not  sorry  it  is  a  mortal  dis- 
ease, from  which  no  one  recovers  ;  for  who  would 
live  always  in  such  a  world  as  this,  who  has  a 
Scriptural  hope  of  an  inheritance  in  the  world  of 
light  1  I  am  now  in  my  seventy-second  year,  and 
seem  to  have  lived  long  enough  for  myself ;  I 
have  known  something  of  the  evil  of  life,  and 
have  had  a  large  share  of  the  good.  I  know  what 
the  world  can  do,  and  what  it  cannot  do  ;  it  can 
neither  give  nor  take  away  that  peace  of  God 
whieh  passeth  all  understanding;  it  cannot  sooth 
a  wounded  conscience,  nor  enable  us  to  meet 
death  with  comfort.  That  you,  my  dear  sir,  may 
have  an  abiding  and  abounding  experience  that 
the  Gospel  is  a  catholicon,  adapted  to  all  our 
wants  and  all  our  feelings,  and  a  suitable  help 
when  every  other  help  fails,  is  the  sincere  and 


208 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


ardent  prayer  of  your  affectionate  friend,"  &c 

But  in  proportion  as  Mr.  Newton  felt  the  vanity 
of  earthly  pursuits,  he  was  as  feelingly  alive  to 
whatever  regarded  eternal  concerns.  Take  an  in 
stance  of  this  in  a  visit  which  he  paid  another 
friend.  This  friend  was  a  minister  who  affected 
great  accuracy  in  his  discourses,  and  who,  on  that 
Sunday,  had  nearly  occupied  an  hour  in  insisting 
on  several  labored  and  nice  distinctions  made  in 
his  subject.  As  he  had  a  high  estimation  of  Mr. 
Newton's  judgment,  he  inquired  of  him,  as  they 
walked  home,  whether  he  thought  the  distinc- 
tions just  now  insisted  on  were  full  and  judi- 
cious 1  Mr.  Newton  said  he  thought  them  not 
full,  as  a  very  important  one  had  been  omitted. 
"What  can  that  be  %n.  said  the  minister,  "  for  I 
had  taken  more  than  ordinary  care  to  enumerate 
them  fully."  "  I  think  not,"  replied  Mr.  Newten, 
"  for  when  many  of  your  congregation  had  tra- 
velled several  miles  for  a  meal,  I  think  you 
should  not  have  forgotten  the  important  distinc- 
tion which  must  ever  exist  between  meat  and 
bones."  /-.» 

In  the  year  1799  Mr.  Newton  had  the  honorary 
degree  of  D.  D.  conferred  upon  him  by  the  uni- 
versity of  New  Jersey,  in  America,  and  the  di- 
ploma sent  him.  He  also  received  a  work  in  two 
volumes,  dedicated  to  him,  with  the  above  title 


MINISTRY  IN  LONDON. 


209 


annexed  to  his  name.  Mr.  Newton  wrote  the  au- 
thor a  grateful  acknowledgment  for  the  work, 
but  begged  to  decline  an  honor  which  he  never 
intended  to  accept.  "I  am,"  said  he,  "as  one 
born  out  of  due  time.*  I  have  neither  the  preten- 
sion nor  wish  to  honors  of  this  kind.  However, 
therefore,  the  university  may  over-rate  my  at- 
tainments, and  thus  show  their  respect,  I  must 
C  not  forget  myself;  it  would  be  both  vain  and  im- 
proper were  I  to  concur  in  it." 

But  Mr.  Newton  had  yet  another  storm  to 
weather.  While  we  were  contemplating  the  long 
and  rough  voyage  he  had  passed,  and  thought  he 

*  In  a  MS.  note  on  a  letter  dated  15th  Dec.  1797,  he 
writes,  "Though  I  am  not  so  sensibly  affected  as  1  could  wish, 
I  hope  I  am  truly  affected  by  the  frequent  reviews  I  make 
of  my  past  life.  Perhaps  the  annals  of  Thy  church  scarcely 
afford  an  instance  in  all  respects  so  singular.   Perhaps  Thy 
grace  may  have  recovered  some  from  an  equal  degree  of 
apostacy,  infidelity  and  profligacy :  but  few  of  them  have 
•    been  redeemed  from  such  a  state  of  misery  and  depression  as 
i    I  was  in,  upon  the  coast  of  Africa,  when  thy  unsought  mercy 
I    wrought  for  my  deliverance  :  but  that  such  a  wretch  should 
[  not  only  be  spared,  and  pardoned,  but  reserved  to  the  honor 
of  preaching  Thy  Gospel,  which  he  had  blasphemed  and  re- 
nounced, and  at  length  be  placed  in  a  very  public  situation, 
I    and  favored  with  acceptance  and  usefulness,  both  from  the 
pulpit  and  the  press,  so  that  my  poor  name  is  known  in  most 
parts  of  the  world  where  there  are  any  who  know  Thee — 
this  is  wonderful  indeed !  The  more  Thou  hast  exalted  me, 
i   the  more  I  ought  to  abase  myself." 

18* 


210 


LITE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON, 


had  only  now  to  rest  in  a  quiet  haven,  and  with  a 
fine  sunsetting  at  the  close  of  the  evening  of  his 
life  ;  clouds  began  to  gather  again,  and  seemed 
to  threaten  a  wreck  at  the  very  entry  of  the  port. 

He  used  to  make  excursions  in  the  summer  to 
different  friends  in  the  country,  endeavoring  to 
make  these  visits  profitable  to  them  and  their 
neighbors,  by  his  continual  prayers,  and  the  ex- 
positions he  gave  of  the  Scriptures  read  at  their 
morning  and  evening  worship.  I  have  heard  of 
some  who  were  first  brought  to  the  knowledge 
of  themselves  and  of  God  by  attending  his  exhor- 
tations on  these  occasions ;  for,  indeed,  besides 
what  he  undertook  in  a  more  stated  way  at  the 
church,  he  seldom  entered  a  room  but  something 
both  profitable  and  entertaining  fell  from  his  lips. 
After  the  death  of  Miss  Cunningham  and  Mrs. 
Newton,  his  companion  in  these  summer  excur- 
sions was  his  other  niece,  Miss  Elizabeth  Catlett. 
This  young  lady  had  also  been  brought  up  by 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newton  with  Miss  Cunningham, 
and  on  the  death  of  the  two  latter,  she  became 
the  object  of  Mr.  Newton's  naturally  affectionate 
disposition.  She  also  became  quite  necessary  to 
him  by  her  administrations  in  his  latter  years; 
she  watched  him,  walked  with  him,  visited  where- 
ever  he  went ;  when  his  sight  failed  she  read  to 
him,  divided  his  food,  and  was  unto  him  all  that 
a  dutiful  daughter  could  be. 


MINISTRY  IH  LONDON. 


211 


But  in  the  year  1S01  a  nervous  disorder  seized 
her,  by  which  Mr.  Xewton  was  obliged  to  submit 
to  her  being  separated  from  him.  During  the 
twelvemonth  it  lasted,  the  weight  of  the  affliction, 
added  to  his  weight  of  years,  seemed  to  over- 
whelm him.  I  extracted  a  few  of  his  reflections 
on  the  occasion,  written  on  some  blank  leaves  in 
an  edition  of  his  Letters  to  a  Wife,  which  he 
lent  me  on  my  undertaking  these  Memoirs,  and 
subjoin  them  in  a  note.*    It  may  give  the  reader 

*  "  August  1st,  1801.  I  now  enter  ray  77th  year.  I  have 
been  exercised  this  year  with  a  trying  and  unexpected 
change;  but  it  is  by  thy  appointment,  my  gracious  Lord; 
and  thou  art  unchangeably  wise,  good  and  merciful.  Thou 
gavest  me  my  dear  adopted  child.  Thou  didst  own  my  en- 
deavors to  bring  her  up  for  thee.  I  have  no  doubt  that  thou 
hast  called  her  by  thy  grace.  I  thank  thee  for  the  many 
years'  comfort  (ten)  I  have  had  in  her,  and  for  the  attention 
and  affection  she  has  always  shown  me,  exceeding  that  of 
most  daughters  to  their  own  parents.  Thou  hast  now  tried 
me,  as  thou  didst  Abraham,  in  my  old  age ;  when  my  eyes  are 
failing,  and  my  strength  declines.  Thou  hast  called  for  my 
Isaac,  who  had  so  long  been  my  chief  stay  and  staff,  but  it 
was  thy  chief  blessing  that  made  her  so.  A  nervous  disor- 
der has  seized  her,  and  I  desire  to  leave  her  under  thy  care ; 
and  chiefly  prav  for  myself,  that  I  may  be  enabled  to  wait 
thy  time  and  will,  without  betraying  any  signs  of  impatience 
or  despondency  unbecoming  my  profession  and  character. 
Hitherto  thou  hast  helped  me;  and  to  thee  I  look  for  help 
in  future.  Let  all  issue  in  ihy  glory,  that  my  friends  and 
hearers  may  be  encouraged  by  seeing  how  I  am  supported  ; 
let  thy  strength  be  manifest  in  my  weakness,  and  thy  grace 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


pleasure  to  be  informed  that  Miss  Catlett  return- 
ed home  and  gradually  recovered.* 

It  was  with  a  mixture  of  delight  and  surprise 
that  the  friends  and  hearers  of  this  eminent  ser- 
vant of  God  beheld  him  bringing  forth  such  a 
measure  of  fruit  in  extreme  age.  Though  then  al- 
most eighty  years  old,  his  sight  nearly  gone,  and 
incapable,  through  deafness,  of  joining  in  conver- 
sation, his  public  ministry  was  regularly  conti- 
nued, and  maintained  with  a  considerable  degree 
of  his  former  animation.  His  memory,  indeed, 
was  observed  to  fail,  but  his  judgment  in  divine 
things  still  remained  ;  and  though  some  depres- 
sion of  spirits  was  observed,  which  he  used  to 
account  for  from  his  advanced  age,  his  percep- 
tion, taste  and  zeal  for  the  truths  he  had  long  re- 
ceived and  taught,  were  evident.  Like  Simeon, 
having  seen  the  salvation  of  the  Lord,  he  now 
only  waited  and  prayed  to  depart  in  peace. 

be  sufficient  for  me,  and  let  all  finally  work  together  for  our 
good.  Amen.  I  aim  to  say  from  my  heart,  Not  my  will,  but 
thine,  be  done.  But  though  thou  hast  in  a  measure  made  my 
spirit  willing,  thou  knowest,  and  I  feel,  that  the  flesh  is 
weak.  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  my  unbelief.  Lord,  I  sub- 
mit, subdue  every  rebellious  thought  that  dares  arise  agains» 
thy  will.  Spare  my  eyes,  if  it  please  thee :  but,  above  all, 
strengthen  my  faith  and  love." 

*  Mr.  Newton's  Letters  to  a  Niece  were  written  to  her: 
they  are  published  by  the  American  Tract  Society  5  Series 
5.  No.  7. 


MINISTRY  IX  LONDON. 


213 


After  Mr.  Newton  was  turned  of  eighty  some 
of  his  friends  feared  he  might  continue  his  public 
ministrations  too  long;  they  marked  not  only  his 
infirmities  in  the  pulpit,  but  felt  much  on  account 
of  the  decrease  of  his  strength  and  of  his  occa* 
sional  depressions.  Conversing  with  him  in  Ja- 
nuary, 1806,  on  the  latter,  he  observed  that  he 
had  experienced  nothing  which  in  the  least  af- 
fected the  principles  he  had  felt  and  taught;  that 
his  depressions  were  the  natural  result  of  four- 
score years,  and  that,  at  any  age,  we  can  only  en- 
joy that  comfort  from  our  principles  which  God 
is  pleased  to  send.  But,"  replied  I,  "  in  the  ar- 
ticle of  public  preaching,  might  it  not  be  best  to 
consider  your  work  as  done,  and  stop  before  you 
evidently  discover  you  can  speak  no  longer  1" 
"  I  cannot  stop,"  said  he,  raising  his  voice ; 
"  What !  shall  the  old  African  blasphemer  stop 
while  he  can  speak  V 

In  every  future  visit  I  perceived  old  age  mak- 
ing rapid  strides.  At  length  his  friends  found 
some  difficulty  in  making  themselves  known  to 
him  :  his  sight,  his  hearing  and  his  recollection 
exceedingly  failed;  but,  being  mercifully  kept 
from  pain,  he  generally  appeared  easy  and  cheer- 
ful. Whatever  he  uttered  was  perfectly  consist- 
ent with  the  principles  he  had  so  long  and  so 
honorably  maintained.  Calling  to  see  him  a  few 
days  before  he  died,  with  one  of  his  most  inti- 


214 


LIFE  OF   REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


mate  friends,  we  could  not  make  him  recollect 
either  of  us ;  but  seeing  him  afterward,  when  sit- 
ting up  in  his  chair,  I  found  as  much  intellect 
remaining  as  produced  a  short  and  affectionate 
reply,  though  he  was  utterly  incapable  of  con- 
versation. 

Mr.  Newton  declined  in  this  very  gradual  way, 
till  at  length  it  was  painful  to  ask  him  a  question, 
or  attempt  to  rouse  faculties  almost  gone ;  still 
his  friends  were  anxious  to  get  a  word  from  him, 
and  those  friends  who  survive  him  will  be  as 
anxious  to  learn  the  state  of  his  mind  in  his 
latest  hours.  It  is  quite  natural  thus  to  inquire, 
though  it  is  not  important  how  such  a  decided 
character  left  this  world.  I  have  heard  Mr.  New- 
ton say,  when  he  has  heard  particular  inquiry 
made  about  the  last  expressions  of  an  eminent 
believer,  "  Tell  me  not  how  the  man  died,  but 
how  he  lived." 

Still  I  say  it  is  natural  to  inquire,  and  I  will 
meet  the  desire  (not  by  trying  to  expand  Un- 
interesting particulars,  but)  as  far  as  I  can  col- 
lect encouraging  facts ;  and  I  learn,  from  a  pa- 
per kindly  sent  me  by  his  family,  all  that  is  in- 
teresting and  authentic. 

About  a  month  before  Mr.  Newton's  death,  Mr. 
Smith's  niece  was  sitting  by  him,  to  whom  he 
said,  "  It  is  a  great  thing  to  die ;  and  when  flesh 
and  heart  fail,  to  have  God  for  the  strength  of 


HIS  DEATH. 


215 


our  heart,  and  our  portion  for  ever:  I  know 
whom  I  have  believed,  and  he  is  able  to  keep 
that  which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against 
that  day.  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the 
righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day." 

When  Mrs.  Smith  (his  niece,  formerly  Miss 
Catlett)  came  into  the  room,  he  said,  "I  have 
been  meditating  on  a  subject,  '  Come  and  hear, 
all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what  he 
hath  done  for  my  soul/  " 

At  another  time  he  said,  "More  light,  more 
love,  more  liberty — Hereafter  I  hope,  when  I 
shut  my  eyes  on  the  things  of  time,  I  shall  open 
them  in  a  better  world.  What  a  thing  it  is  to 
live  under  the  shadow  of  the  wings  of  the  Al- 
mighty! I  am  going  the  way  of  all  flesh."  And 
when  one  replied,  "The  Lord  is  gracious,"  he 
answered,  "  If  it  were  not  so,  how  could  I  dare 
to  stand  before  him  1" 

The  Wednesday  before  he  died  Mrs.  G  

asked  him  if  his  mind  was  comfortable  ;  he  re- 
plied, "  I  am  satisfied  with  the  Lord's  will." 

Mr.  Newton  seemed  sensible  to  his  last  hour, 
but  expressed  nothing  remarkable  after  these 
words.  He  departed  on  the  21st,  and  was  buried 
in  the  vault  of  his  church,  the  31st  of  December, 
1807,  having  left  the  following  injunction,  in  a 
letter,  for  the  direction  of  his  executors: 


216 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


"  I  propose  writing  an  epitaph  for  myself,  if  it 
may  be  put  up,  on  a  plain  marble  tablet,  near  the 
vestry-door,  to  the  following  purport: 

JOHN  NEWTON,  Clerk, 
Once  an  Infidel  and  Libertine, 
A  servant  of  slaves  in  Africa, 
Was,  by  the  rich  mercy  of  our  Lord  and  Savior 
JESUS  CHRIST, 
Preserved,  restored,  pardoned, 
And  appointed  to  preach  the  Faith, 
(He  had  long  labored  to  destroy,) 
Near  sixteen  years  at  Olney,  in  Bucks, 
And  .  .  years  in  this  church. 
On  Feb.  1,  1750,  he  married 
MARY, 

Daughter  of  the  late  George  Catleit, 
Of  Chatham,  Kent. 
He  resigned  her  to  the  Lord  who  gave  her, 
On  the  15th  of  December,  1790. 

"  And  I  earnestly  desire  that  no  other  monu- 
ment, and  no  inscription  but  to  this  purport,  may 
be  attempted  for  me." 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  beginning  of 
Mr.  Newton's  will,  dated  June  13,  1S03: 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  Amen.  I,  John  Newton, 
of  Coleman-street  Buildings,  in  the  parish  of  St. 
Stephen,  Coleman-street,  in  the  city  of  London, 
Clerk,  being,  through  mercy,  in  good  health  and 
of  sound  and  disposing  ♦mind,  memory  and  un- 
derstanding, although  in  the  seventy-eighth  year 


FAMILIAR  REMARKS.  241 

in  reality,  this  world  is  a  far  worse  scene.  It  has 
but  two  wards :  in  the  one,  men  are  miserable ; 
in  the  other,  mad. 

Some  preachers  near  Olney  dwelt  on  the  doc- 
trine of  predestination:  an  old  woman  said — Ah! 
I  have  long  settled  that  point :  for,  if  God  had 
not  chosen  me  before  I  was  born,  I  am  sure  he 
would  have  seen  nothing  in  me  to  have  chosen 
me  for  afterwards. 

I  see  the  unprofitableness  of  controversy  in  the 
case  of  Job  and  his  friends:  for,  if  God  had  not 
interposed,  had  they  lived  to  this  day,  they  would 
have  continued  the  dispute. 

It  is  pure  mercy  that  negatives  a  particular  re- 
quest. A  miser  would  pray  very  earnestly  for 
gold,  if  he  believed  prayer  would  gain  it ;  whereas, 
if  Christ  had  any  favor  to  him  he  would  take  his 
gold  away.  A  child  walks  in  the  garden  in  spring, 
and  sees  cherries;  he  knows  they  are  good  fruit, 
and  therefore  asks  for  them.  "  No,  my  dear," 
says  the  father,  ff  they  are  not  yet  ripe;  stay  till 
the  season." 

If  I  cannot  take  pleasure  in  infirmities,  I  can 
sometimes  feel  the  profit  of  them.  I  can  con- 
ceive a  king  to  pardon  a  rebel,  and  take  him  into 
his  family,  and  then  say,  "  I  appoint  you  for  a 
season  to  wear  a  fetter.  At  a  certain  season  I 
will  send  a  messenger  to  knock  it  off.  In  the 
mean  time  this  fetter  will  serve  to  remind  you 

Newton.  2 1 


242 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


of  your  state ;  it  may  humble  you  and  restrain 
you  from  rambling." 

Some  christians,  at  a  glance,  seem  of  superior 
order ;  and  are  not:  they  want  a  certain  quality. 
At  a  florist's  feast  the  other  day,  a  certain  flower 
was  determined  to  bear  the  bell ;  but  it  was  found 
to  be  an  artificial  flower  :  there  is  a  quality  called 
growth  which  it  had  not. 

Doctor  Taylor,  of  Norwich,  said  to  me,  "  Sir, 
I  have  collated  every  word  in  the  Hebrew  Scrip- 
tures seventeen  times ;  and  it  is  very  strange  if 
the  doctrine  of  atonement,  which  you  hold,  should 
not  have  been  found  by  me."  I  am  not  surprised 
at  this :  I  once  went  to  light  my  candle  with  the 
extinguisher  on  it :  now,  prejudices  from  educa- 
tion, learning,  &c.  often  form  an  extinguisher. 
It  is  not  enough  that  you  bring  the  candle  :  you 
must  remove  the  extinguisher. 

I  measure  ministers  by  square  measure.  I  have 
no  idea  of  the  size  of  a  table,  if  you  only  tell  me 
how  long  it  is ;  but,  if  you  also  say  how  wide,  I 
can  tell  its  dimensions.  So,  when  you  tell  me  what 
a  man  is  in  the  pulpit,  you  must  also  tell  me  what 
he  is  out  of  it,  or  I  shall  not  know  his  size. 

A  man  should  be  born  to  high  things  not  to 
ose  himself  in  them.  Slaters  will  walk  on  the 
ridge  of  a  house  with  ease,  which  would  turn 
our  heads. 

Much  depends  on  the  way  we  come  into  trou- 


FAMILIAR  REMAKES. 


243 


ble.  Paul  and  Jonah  were  both  in  a  storm,  but  in 
very  different  circumstances. 

1  have  read  of  many  wicked  Popes,  but  the 
worst  Pope  I  ever  met  with  is  Pope  Self. 

The  men  of  this  world  are  children.  Offer  a 
child  an  apple  and  a  bank  note,  he  will  doubtless 
choose  the  apple. 

The  heir  of  a  great  estate,  while  a  child,  thinks 
more  of  a  few  shillings  in  his  pocket  than  of  his 
inheritance.  So  a  christian  is  often  more  elated 
by  some  frame  of  heart  than  by  his  title  to  glory. 

A  dutiful  child  is  ever  looking  forward  to  the 
holidays,  when  he  shall  return  to  his  father ;  but 
he  does  not  think  of  running  from  school  before. 

The  Gospel  is  a  proclamation  of  free  mercy 
to  guilty  creatures — an  act  of  grace  to  rebels. 
Now,  though  a  rebel  should  throw  away  his  pis- 
tols, and  determine  to  go  into  the  woods,  and 
make  his  mind  better  before  he  goes  to  court 
and  pleads  the  act ;  he  may,  indeed,  not  be  found 
in  arms,  yet,  being  taken  in  his  reforming 
scheme,  he  will  be  hanged. 

Man  is  made  capable  of  three  births:  by  nature, 
he  enters  into  the  present  world  ;  by  grace,  into 
spiritual  light  and  life  ;  by  death,  into  glory. 

In  my  imagination,  I  sometimes  fancy  I  could 
make  a  perfect  minister.  I  take  the  eloquence  of 

 ,  the  knowledge  of  ,  the  zeal  of  , 

and  the  pastoral  meekness,  tenderness  and  >iety 


244 


LIFE  OF  EEV.  JOHN  NEWTON. 


of  :  then,  putting  them  all  together  into  one 

man,  I  say  to  myself,  fr  This  would  be  a  perfect 
minister."  Now  there  is  one,  who,  if  he  choose  it, 
could  actually  do  this ;  but  he  never  did.  He  has 
seen  fit  to  do  otherwise,  and  to  divide  these  gifts 
to  every  man  severally  as  he  will. 

I  feel  like  a  man  who  has  no  money  in  his 
pocket,  but  is  allowed  to  draw  for  all  he  wants 
upon  one  infinitely  rich  ;  I  am,  therefore,  at  once 
both  a  beggar  and  a  rich  man. 

I  went  one  day  to  Mrs.  G  's  just  after  she 

had  lost  all  her  fortune  ;  I  could  not  be  sur- 
prised to  find  her  in  tears,  but  she  said,  "  I  sup- 
pose you  think  I  am  crying  for  my  loss,  but  that 
is  not  the  case :  I  am  now  weeping  to  think  I 
should  feel  so  much  uneasiness  on  this  account." 
After  that  I  never  heard  her  speak  again  upon 
the  subject  as  long  as  she  lived. 

I  have  many  books  that  I  cannot  sit  down  to 
read :  they  are,  indeed,  good  and  sound ;  but, 
like  halfpence,  there  goes  a  great  quantity  to  a 
little  amount.  There  are  silver  books;  and  a 
very  few  golden  books :  but  I  have  one  book 
worth  more  than  all,  called  the  Bible ;  and  that 
is  a  book  of  bank  notes. 


THE  END. 


DATE  DUE 


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